Write That Down
by Sede2113
Summary: COMPLETE HG Ginny starts a new life after losing Harry in the war. But is he really gone? Meanwhile, Rudolphus Lestrange, bent on revenge, terrorises the Muggle and Wizarding World. And the only person who can stop him is supposed to be dead.
1. Beginnings

A/N – Ok ok, so I'm finally back with a brand-new fic that has nothing to do with any of my others. I have a good feeling about this fic – which I hope will last, too. Anyway, it's very different. (Haha, I say that about all of them don't I?) Don't expect the next chapter for another 2-3 weeks because school this year has gotten so time-consuming. A big thanks to people who have helped me with this, Naz, Aniket and Emma. (although that latter probably thinks she hasn't helped much – which she has).

Anyway, enjoy the fic – it a fairly short one with only 11-12 chapters but hopefully a good one…

_Write That Down_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing except for the plot. All the rest belongs to JK Rowling and the quote from anonymous._

To dare to live alone is the rarest courage; since there are many

who had rather meet their bittersweet enemy in the field

than their own hearts in their closet

- Anonymous

- - - - - - - -

_What were the odds? His hands trembled as he read the paper for the third time in ten minutes, his eyes drinking in the picture. Somehow, somewhere, somebody had tampered with fate and she was coming. Here. Against all odds and of all the places, this was the place and time. He looked out to sea, watching the sunset in foreboding. Another long, sleepless and terrifying night lay ahead. But there was going to be one difference this time, this night: she was going to be close by. _

- - - - - - - -

1 year earlier…

Rudolphus Lestrange paced the small box of a room, hair messy and eyes wild. He was sweating badly and the smell of nasty potions lingered unpleasantly in the stuffy air. He kept pacing, muttering to himself and fingering his wand angrily.

"Revenge…" he kept repeating, ignoring his rumbling stomach. He had not eaten in days, and his ribs were sticking out. The thought of revenge was all that fed him, all that was keeping him alive. He glanced quickly at the man slumped in the corner, breathing but not at all conscious. Some Muggle. Rudolphus thought that he may come in handy some time or another. He wanted to make sure he remained Stunned though.

Rudolphus sat down on the grimy floor of his square house in the woods. The moon glowed outside the window, just out of sight, but its beams spilled onto the dirt on the windowsill, making eerie patches of light splay across the room. He pulled the newspaper towards him, spitting at the front picture of Arthur Weasley; the man who had killed his wife in front of his very eyes and had smiled when he did it. What he wouldn't give to torture that man until he screamed and cried for mercy. Because of that filth, that blood traitor, he was reduced to this – some – some madman in the woods.

"No, no, not mad," he assured himself in a quick whisper. "Revenge. For revenge."

He read over the article, baring his teeth as the rest of the filth's family was mentioned. All of them were blood traitors. They were the dirt beneath his shoe and deserved nothing but this cabin in the woods.

But then something caught his eye.

He grabbed the paper and held it closer, his breath quickening in excitement. He read and reread the article again, biting his lip so hard it bled. He licked the blood, almost savouring it.

_Arthur Weasley's youngest and only daughter, an established writer, has recently revealed plans to write a book on living in a Muggle town in the following year. Her proud father says that she hopes to end the resentment towards Muggles by a small number of wizards and witches since the end of the war because of all the lives lost for their safety. _

Could he do it? Could he do something so difficult? More blood trickled down his chin and he wiped it away, eyes rolling in the back of his head as he thought deeply. Yes. Yes, it could work if he worked hard. He'd need to change though, find a different house maybe. A cover story.

A groan from the corner startled Rudolphus and he looked up. The Muggle man was staring back at him with the utmost terror, taking in the ragged and mad appearance and the blood trickling down his chin. Rudolphus grinned at him, eyes wide with excitement. He stood up and grabbed his wand, standing in front of the man, who cowered.

"Who are you?" he said foggily, he was still woozy from being Stunned for the past week. The wooziness didn't stop his fear, though. Rudolphus could smell it and it excited him further.

He smiled down at the man, swaying from lack of food. Then he Stunned him again.

"Shh," he crooned to the unconscious man before him. "I'll be needing you. You're going to help me re-start the war."

- - - - - - - -

Present…

"I am _never_ going to get all of this stuff packed in time," groaned Ginny, dropping a huge brown moving box on the couch. She groaned again and stretched her back.

"Yes you will," said Hermione impatiently. "But-"

"- not if you don't use your wand…"Ginny interrupted, imitating what she knew Hermione was going to say. She rolled hey eyes and grinned at her brown-haired friend.

Hermione shrugged. "Well, it is true."

"Hermione, if I'm going to be living, eating and breathing like a Muggle for a year, I might as well start practicing," Ginny said mildly while picking up a vase and putting it in the box. Hermione had been making comments like this for the past week and Ginny was trying to stay calm about it.

She turned around and searched the room, pursing her lips.

"Hmm, what else needs to be packed?"

Hermione watched the youngest Weasley, wondering how on earth Ginny had picked up her father's love of non-magic people and customs. Ginny had stunned everyone after telling them that she was going to live in a Muggle town for a year to write a book on her experiences. And now she was leaving with her husband, Eric, tomorrow. Hermione knew she was going to find it hard not having Ginny around, as she was one of the few female friends that she had.

"I still cannot believe you are doing this, Gin." Hermione sat down and stared at Ginny.

Ginny merely hummed to herself as she packed, she'd heard this many a time before.

"I mean, a year is a long time and are you sure that you and Eric are ready for this? You only got married three months ago."

"I've known that I was going to be doing this book for a long time now, I think it will be an adventure and something to talk about for the rest of my life. And if not Eric, Hermione, who else?" Ginny put her hand on her hips and faced Hermione.

Hermione smiled. "I'm just going to miss you, that's all."

Ginny's face softened and she leant over the couch to give her friend a quick hug. "I'll miss you too but we'll be back before you know it, so no need to worry."

"Oh I'm not worrying," Hermione said quickly. "Eric is perfectly capable of protecting you. Actually, I never did ask you how you talked him into it. I know he's never been fond of Muggles."

Ginny grinned. "Because he loves me." Ginny let her grin fade into a nostalgic smile. Her time with Eric had passed in a whirlwind of events; they met by accident at the Ministry, they flirted at a bar, they dined together at a restaurant, he met her family, she heard how his had died in the war… and then they were married. One thing had just led smoothly to the next, like the perfect dream where you got somewhere impossible and it didn't even seem weird. She¸ _Ginny Weasley_ was _married. _

Hermione smiled back, she definitely knew what loving somebody could do. Herself when it came to Ron was example of that. "Well, I better get a sneak peak of your book, then."

"Obviously you're proofing it, Hermione!" Ginny laughed. "So clearly much more than just a sneak peak." Hermione laughed with her.

BANG!

Both women jumped and Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Fred and George?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

Ginny bit her lip guiltily. "They're really excited about having a place to do experiments – where the neighbours don't complain to the Ministry about the smells and noises and stuff."

"They've moved in already? You're very brave," said Hermione, shaking her head. "Eric's not the only one blinded by love. The things you do for those two…"

"Any of my brothers!" protested Ginny.

"Bill?"

"Yes."

"Ron?"

"Yup."

"Percy?"

Silence.

Hermione coloured. "Sorry, I wasn't thinking."

"Honestly, don't worry Hermione. Everybody knows things aren't and never will be great or even okay between Percy and me." Ginny shrugged. "He doesn't really get on with most of the family except for Mum and Charlie."

"Ron doesn't mind him," said Hermione.

"Because you tell him not to," said Ginny with a smirk.

BANG! This was followed by an ominous hissing sound from within the depths of the room with the closed door.

Hermione grinned and then turned serious.

"Ginny," she began hesitantly. "I've been meaning to ask you… what the… you know… at night… how do you find… _it_?"

Ginny sat down on the couch, moving the box aside. She was all timidness now, biting her lip and playing with her hands. "Well, it's just – just okay I guess. It's supposed to be painful, right?" She looked deploringly at Hermione, furrowing her brows. "I mean not painful… but – you know – like not… enjoyable." She played with her fingers and kicked the carpet. "I – I don't… Honestly Hermione? I hate it. I really do. It's not magic, it's not wonderful and it's so… awful to go through but Eric he – I… don't want to disappoint him, you know?"

Hermione looked troubled. "Well quite truthfully, no, I don't." She frowned and pulled on her robes. "You should like it by now, Gin, I don't really understand."

Ginny leant back over the cushions in defeat. "Neither do I; so I just keep hoping it'll get better."

Hermione patted her arm sympathetically. "It will, I promise. Eric loves you, he's never want to hurt you. I know it'll work out, Gin."

Ginny pulled a face and gave a small smile. "Yeah, I hope so. But I'm not too worried at the moment. How about you and Ron?"

Hermione gave her sister-in-law a huge smile. "The same as it always was. We fight, we kiss, we fight, we kiss… a never ending cycle. And Merlin I love it."

"In other words… still married?"

"Yeah. I mean, I never saw myself marrying almost right after school finished but… it's Ron. We were always going to get married so why not just get it over with, right?"

"Right."

"Remember when you and Harry bet we wouldn't last a year after school finished. And now we're married!" Hermione laughed and then kicked herself when she saw Ginny's face. "Yes, well you were um, wrong. I…" Hermione crumpled. "Sorry, sometimes he just slips into the conversation like he's always been here."

"I know." Ginny stared out the window.

"I sometimes wish that he could have been best man at our wedding. I don't think Ron will ever be able to recover from that blow…" Hermione trailed off and then shook her head and put a self-deprecating smile back on her face. "Even I sometimes look down at the ring we all shared and try to will it to change colour. Some part of me keeps hoping and won't take it off."

Ginny looked at the small ring on Hermione's slender finger. In seventh year, Ron, Hermione and Harry had needed something to ensure the others were alive and used a spell that needed an object to determine this. That way, if they were in trouble then the others would immediately know. The stone on the ring changed colour to show this, and ever since Harry had died the ring had gone green. The problem was, dead was black, but it was green. Hermione had said that didn't mean anything though, the three of them weren't very experienced in making the spell on the ring and that was bound to happen. But that green stone kept them all hoping.

"Look Ginny, just keep trying, okay?" Hermione had gotten back on track. "You love Eric and that's all a marriage needs. Love between both people."

Ginny nodded. "Oh! Have I shown you the photo of the town?" she asked, changing the subject quickly.

Hermione shook her head and Ginny went to go get the photo. Hermione was still worried but she smiled eagerly when Ginny handed her the stack of pictures with the one of the village on top.

A small, old looking town slept peacefully in the hollow of a gentle hill. The hill lead to a cliff with three houses on it and then there was a steep plunge into the water below. Ginny pointed to the middle house on the cliff, indicating it was the one she and Eric were going to be living in.

"It's very pretty and peaceful looking – perfect for writing a book," said Hermione.

BANG! BANG!

Ginny dropped the photo in surprise and turned to one of the bedroom doors of her flat where thick purple smoke was suddenly billowing out of. Seconds later the door swung open and two redheaded men appeared from inside the room, one carrying a clipboard. The smoke was billowing out even thicker now and Ginny started coughing.

"What-" She broke off coughing.

"I think we've almost got it!" George exclaimed, scribbling furiously on the clipboard.

"Now we just need to get rid of the purple smoke," said Fred thoughtfully as he surveyed the smoke.

"-and the bangs."

"-and the hissing sound."

"The future looks very bright," George said happily, drawing a definite tick on the piece of paper.

"I take it you've had no success then?" Hermione said sarcastically, sniffing the purple smoke (which had grown louder and filled the living room) and making a face.

George stopped and looked over the clipboard at Hermione like she was a rival inventor.

"No," he said delicately. "Only…" he looked back down at the clipboard and then back up again. "…seventy-three ways that don't work. I personally would call that close to a breakthrough, however."

"Oh, sorry, right." Hermione snorted elegantly and turned to look at Ginny, who was studying the purple smoke curiously.

"This flat better be just the same as it is now when I get back, Fred," she warned.

"Filled with pungent purple smoke? Deal."

Ginny rolled her eyes but couldn't help but laugh. "Just no holes in the wall or hidden booby traps."

Hermione went back to the photographs and gasped when she flipped to the next photo. Harry, Ron and herself stood waving in their graduation robes, behind a half ruined Hogwarts from the war. Ginny frowned and came to see what was wrong. She stopped when she saw the photo.

"I – I though I had put that away. Sorry," she said in a funny, high voice.

"No, no, I like looking at him," said Hermione, holding the photo tightly. "It helps me remember him."

Fred and George, despite not seeing the photograph, knew who was in it and they became serious.

"He was just… he was my best friend – Ron's best friend and I – we – loved him so much," said Hermione in the same funny voice as Ginny.

"We all did," echoed Ginny.

"We don't know for sure…" said Fred cautiously.

"If he was alive, Fred, he would come to us," said Hermione briskly, wiping her eyes suspiciously. "But it does seem like he's still just around the corner sometimes, doesn't it?" she asked Ginny.

"Just getting a third helping from mum at the Burrow," said Ginny, smiling softly. "But he saved the Wizarding world, just like everybody knew that he would. He gave us that, by killing You-Know-Who even if – even if he had to sacrifice himself to do it."

There was a silence for a couple of minutes.

"Well, I'm almost done packing," said Ginny with forced cheeriness, breaking the silence. She hated talking about Harry; it came with such bittersweet memories.

"Just about," said Hermione as she wiped her eyes again and busied herself with the last few boxes. The twins flooed back to the Burrow for lunch, where Hermione was about to go, too. "I really still can't believe you're leaving, I feel like I'm never going to see you again."

"Don't be silly, I'll be back before you know it and maybe you'll be expecting by the time that I'm back?" Ginny waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Hermione hit Ginny on the arm half-heartedly. "Oh, very funny."

"So what about when you come back? Are you going to try to train for being an Auror again?"

Ginny gave Hermione a weary look like this was a long source of arguments – which it was. "Hermione, I failed the trials, I'm not going to bother trying again. Besides, I've decided I like writing – hence why I'm going away to write a book."

She had wanted to be an Auror for years, but she hadn't been accepted and had met Eric at the same time, and the wish to be an Auror wasn't so strong after that. Besides, Eric had a good job at the Ministry and could support them both just fine, he had convinced her of this. So she had trashed that dream for a life with Eric, which wasn't really such a bad thing.

"I keep hoping you're going to realise how bored you're going to get with no magic people around you except Eric. Merlin, you two aren't even taking your wands you're so dedicated!" Hermione sounded awed.

"How could I get bored, Hermione! I'm going to be surrounded by Muggles, meeting new people and making new friends and growing closer to Eric and writing about being happy. How much more perfect can life get?"

"It can't," said Hermione. She smiled as Ginny danced about the room and she felt sad and happy for her at the same time. "Life is going to be so wonderful for you," she added, not knowing just how wrong she was going to be.

Later in the afternoon, Ginny was searching around her bedroom frantically, it was almost time for her to go the Burrow for the goodbye dinner to her and Eric and she had lost her book plan in the midst of all the scramble of packing. Ginny searched through all of her drawers, throwing the possessions she was leaving behind everywhere. She accidentally ripped – in her frenzy – today's paper with her picture and a short article about her book and going to the coast. Eric had saved a copy anyway.

"Dammit, where is it?" she muttered to herself as she felt the very back of one of the bottom drawers in the cupboard. She groped around for the parchment but instead she pulled out a small leather bag.

"What's this?" she mused aloud, pulling on the drawstring. She pulled out something small and circular. A ring. Ginny gasped and sunk slowly to her knees and pressed her fingers to her mouth, closing her eyes. She felt uninvited tears well up and she squeezed her fists together. Leaning against the desk, Ginny let the tears fall. She could still feel him, because his love had touched someplace that nobody else could.

Sometimes it felt like only yesterday that she had been engaged to Harry and so deeply in love that every now and then she still cried over the loss of that love.

- - - - - - -

"I'll be back before you know it," Ginny promised a sobbing Mrs Weasley. "You won't even have time to miss me," she said. All of her family stood around her, a mixture of smiling and crying.

"I'm going to miss my baby girl!" cried Mrs Weasley, hugging her daughter.

"I'll miss you too, Mum." Ginny caught her brother Bill's eye and tried not to smile. She had been dealing with her mother being like this all through dinner. Even her father wasn't this bad.

Eric smiled at Mrs Weasley. "You know I'll make sure she doesn't get into any trouble, Molly," he said kindly, squeezing Ginny around the waist.

"Of course you will, I wouldn't trust anybody else," joked Mr Weasley, gently prying his wife away from Ginny. Everybody laughed and hugged Ginny for the last time.

"Well, we'll be waiting with a 'Welcome Back' dinner for when you get back in exactly a year, no later," said Mrs Weasley, wiping her eyes on her apron. "But you can come back earlier."

Ginny felt somebody tap her on the shoulder and she turned.

Percy.

"Yes?" she said tensely.

"May I speak with you alone? Please?"

Ginny stared at her brother for a second and then slipped out of Eric's arms. "I'll be out the back in a sec, just wait for me."

She followed Percy into the living room, pursing her lips.

"What is it, Percy?"

"Ginny, I do not want you to go through with this. At least not right now, I don't think it's a good idea."

"Merlin, Percy! What is your problem?" Ginny snapped, as he turned to face her.

"I just don't trust him," Percy said stiffly.

"You couldn't even be happy for me on my wedding day and now I'm not going to be seeing you for a year and you still can't even pretend to smile!"

"All I am asking of you Ginny is that you think about this less rashly," Percy said as calmly as he could but his ears were flaming red and he was breathing loudly.

"Less _rashly_?" Ginny said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I was planning this book before I even met Eric, Percy!"

"Yes," continued Percy smoothly, trying to keep his temper. "And now you've met him and he's going with you. The war ended only recently and people are still recovering, now is not the time to go running off on a mere whim." He wanted to add _with that man_ but he through better of it, Ginny was angry enough.

"Of course he's coming with me – he's my husband! And recently, Percy – the war ended a year and a half ago!"

"And people are, like I said, still recov-"

Ginny interrupted. "And don't you dare call it a whim or running off! It's my book for Merlin's sake! My job – my life!

"That's fine! You know I approve of your writing… but Eric… he's… I just want you to wait. I do not trust that man."

Ginny was laughing bitterly now. "Funny, you're the only one. You approve of my writing? Approve? Oh, that's good to hear. Cheers to your approval!" Ginny said acidly.

"Well – well it's not so long ago that you were in love with Harry Potter!" Percy burst out. He instantly regretted saying it.

"I'm sorry, I-" he began guiltily.

"No. You know what? Save it." Ginny grabbed her bag; hurt and angry. "I'll see you in a year, Percy."

She stormed out the door after saying a quick last goodbye to her family and Disapparated away with Eric.

They arrived at Ginny's front door a few seconds later. Ginny reached for her wand and unlocked the door. Neither said a word, this was it. Eric waved his wand and all the packed boxes disappeared, Ginny knew that every single box was now present in their new home of the house on the cliff. She silently went into her bedroom and Eric followed her half a minute later, fumbling with his robes. She opened the secret hole in her wall with her wand. She nodded to Eric and they both put their wands down in the hole and Ginny sealed it up without magic.

They walked outside and looked at each other for a second. Eric leant down and quickly kissed her. He was so tall that Ginny had to stand on tiptoes to meet his lips. Ginny pulled back and studied him in the pale moonlight for a second; she hoped they would become closer in the year alone together. She sensed that he held back from her ever so slightly. Something was tucked away that she hadn't yet been able to reach and it bothered her, because something told her it was important. She knew that he loved her, but he forced himself to distance a part of him. She guessed it was because of the deaths of his family during the war; that maybe he'd never had the time to process and fully recover from the sadness. He was already in general a quiet man, with an ironic sense of humour that showed itself only sometimes and a smile that didn't always reach his eyes. But he touched her softly and loved her deeply, which was what was most important to her.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Ready," she replied, shaking her head slightly to get rid of her thoughts.

They both leant down and touched the old tire on the ground beside them, a portky. Seconds later, she fell into an unknown dirt path and was taking deep gasps of fresh, salty air and surrounded by unfamiliar and inky darkness.

They were here.

**TBC…**


	2. The Mysterious Daily Prophet

**A/N - **ok so it's a _little_ late - but what's a story without suspense?

**Ch 2 – The Mysterious _Daily Prophet_**

Ginny awoke with sun streaming down on her face and in an unfamiliar room. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, staring out the window as she yawned. Last night had passed in a blur, they'd arrived at the town (Segretia) and spent several minutes getting ready for bed and then crashed. Long distance Apparition can do that to you. She winced as she got up from a sharp pain in her shoulder. Furrowing her eyebrows she was surprised to see a relatively large bruise on her shoulder, and she had no idea where it came from. Wishing she had some potions with her now, Ginny went into the kitchen.

"Good morning," Eric greeted her and pouring her some coffee.

"Look at this," said Ginny, pointing to her bruise. "I don't know how I got it."

Eric stared at it for a second and then looked at her. "Must have been from yesterday when you were moving all your stuff." He took a sip of coffee.

Ginny bit her lip, puzzled. "I guess so," she said. "But I usually remember when I hurt myself."

"Sometimes you can't remember, though," said Eric.

He smiled at her slowly. It was his elusive smile; the one that she couldn't tell what he was thinking. Sometimes, he just got this look in his eye and that elusive smile and she couldn't penetrate his thoughts. It worried her, but she chose never to mention it because she didn't think it was important – just another part of him she needed to get to know in this long year ahead of them.

Ginny smiled back. "First day and already I wish I had my wand to make a potion to stop this bruise hurting." She laughed. "I've got to write that down."

"So you're going to write today?"

"Mm, nuh, I think I'm going to go down and explore the town. The people might be suspicious about how we suddenly appeared here one day."

"Easy, we had an extremely long drive during the night." Eric winked and raised his coffee cup to her. Ginny rolled her eyes and kissed him on the lips.

"I'll go get ready. What about you? What are you going to do today?" she asked him on her way to the door.

"Oh, nothing this morning. I've got a headache. But maybe I'll come down later."

"Oh, do you want me to stay with you, then?" Ginny asked him.

"Don't be ridiculous, Gin, go get ideas for your book, woman!"

She smiled and went off to get ready.

She left the house twenty minutes later, muggle clothes and sunglasses on. It felt strange but oddly… normal. Ginny stopped for a second and took in the sight of the town sitting in the bowl shaped land beneath the steep hill that her house was on. It was so peaceful and beautiful that she felt all the worry about her shoulder drain away as she stood in the sun. A small bird flew by her and she turned to watch it soar up the hill and then fly over the cliff. Smiling, she watched the bird fly joyfully over the ocean that looked alive it was sparkling so much. Ginny turned back to the town, watching people milling around the main square. She'd read that there was a total of about seven hundred people living here somewhere, which was why she had chosen it; what better way to get closer to people? She didn't even need to drive a car there was so little people, she reflected as she walked down the hill.

The town was bustling when Ginny finally made it down the hill; there were people chatting in cafes, children zooming by on those boards on wheels, old men playing chess at a small park. It felt so homey and complete. Ginny walked down the street, nervously aware of people's eyes on her, wondering and guessing who she was. A boy went by her on one of the skateboards, almost knocking her over. Ginny yelped and jumped aside, seething as she heard the boy's laughter. This was going to be harder than she had though; nobody was coming up to her at all.

She decided to walk into a café and order a coffee. A pregnant waitress with a nose ring and bubble gum came to take her order almost immediately.

"What'ya want?"

"Just a coffee with milk, no sugar," said Ginny, taking in the girl's heavily made-up eyes and tight uniform.

The girl wrote it down and then looked back up at Ginny, looking at her as she blew disgustingly large bubbles. "You new?"

It wasn't a question.

"Yes, my husband and I drove in last night," Ginny answered.

"Aren't you a bit young to be married?" The girl asked curiously.

Ginny refrained from asking if she was a bit young to be pregnant. "No, not really. We loved each other and thought it was the best idea."

"You sound like, pretty posh," the girl observed. "What you doing in a town like this?"

Ginny didn't exactly know herself why she had picked this town; it had just looked like what she wanted. And she didn't even know what she had wanted. She guessed someplace pretty and peaceful.

"Oh, I'm writing a book. I wanted to move somewhere peaceful."

"Oh." The girl nodded and walked off.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. She pulled out some parchment and a quill from her bag, chewing on the end she tried to decide how to begin writing. No other books had seemed this difficult; she honestly did not know what to write. Noticing that she was getting weird looks from her customers, Ginny rethought writing with her quill. She really had to purchase a pen. She put the quill back in her bag and wished Eric was with her. She felt so alone against the hostile looks of the townspeople.

"That's weird paper."

Ginny jumped and looked up to see the waitress staring down at her with her coffee.

"Where did you say you were from again?"

Ginny shoved the parchment into her bag. "I didn't. I live in London."

"Long drive," said the girl as she placed Ginny's coffee down on the table, slopping it over the sides. Ginny took a sip and tried not to grimace.

"Yeah, it's not that great coffee, not as good as across the road's, but we're more people friendly. I'm Chelsea."

Ginny nodded, though she had her doubts.

"So what's your book going to be about, then?" Chelsea asked. She chewed her gum loudly as she waited for Ginny's answer.

Ginny racked her brain for a lie but couldn't think of anything.

"Um, well, I don't really know yet," she said lamely.

"Oh, I get it. A love story," said Chelsea knowingly. Ginny tried not to laugh.

"Maybe."

"Maybe… about a chick who has to choose between two guys? But then, one turns out to be an evil biker or something so she knows that she should be with the other one," Chelsea said.

Ginny coughed into her coffee. This girl was like the stereotypical teenager with a bad job and an unwanted baby.

"Perhaps. Listen," began Ginny, lowering her voice. Chelsea leaned in ever so slightly, looking interested.

"Is there anything I should know about the town? Where to go, where not to go or who not to talk to?"

Chelsea looked like she was in her element. "Well," she began as she pulled out the chair opposite Ginny and sat down, pregnant stomach pressing against the corner of the table. "Down the end of this road goes into like, gangster territory, right? So don't, like, ever go there."

Ginny snorted. Gangsters in a town with a population this small?

Chelsea ignored her. "The shopping centre is, if you walk out the door, to the left. It's not that big but my mom works in one of the stores and she like, gives me discounts and stuff." She looked thoughtfully at Ginny. "You're like way too young to hang out with my mum, but too old for me and my friends so I don't really know who you can hang with but that's okay, you can just like write your book during the day and at night I can like, give you some of my babysitting contacts. Actually, I'll give you Sophie." She shuddered. "There's something weird about that girl, and everybody knows it. Weird stuff happens when I baby-sit her, like, supernatural stuff." Chelsea's eyes were wide and Ginny fought the urge to tell her that she was a witch just so she could see them get bigger.

"Ok, thanks."

"Yeah, and every month we have a town picnic by the lake like, about a twenty minute walk from here. There's one on Sunday, actually. You should come, and bring your husband, too. We've got a drive in cinema too, if you're looking for a romantic night or ideas for your book."

"Okay, thanks, wow. So, how much is that coffee?" Ginny asked, pulling out her purse filled with strange Muggle money.

"Dollar-ninety."

"Chelsea! Get back to work! I'm not paying you to gossip!"

Chelsea jumped up at her boss's yelling but didn't look even slightly ashamed. "Oh, and one more thing!" She said as Ginny tried to figure out the coins. "Where do you live?"

"Um, the hill."

"Yeah, I thought so. In the middle, right? Well, stay away from the house to the left from you. Some creepy man moved in there like, two years ago and us townsfolk don't trust him. He's never come down here or anything, he just lives up in that house but we think he's dangerous. So just, beware, right?"

"Absolutely. Thanks."

Ginny pushed a pile of notes and coins towards Chelsea, knowing it wasn't right but hoping Chelsea wouldn't say anything.

"You al'right? I could like, by myself a house with that." Chelsea extracted two coins from the pile and pushed the rest back to Ginny. "You must be pretty tired. Did you do all the driving?"

"Oh, he did – hmmm?" Ginny thought in alarm that everybody thought they had driven here but they had no car to show it.

"Well, I'll see you soon, then. Maybe I'll come visit you," said Chelsea as Ginny got up, barely listening.

"Sure thing," she said vaguely.

"Bye!"

Ginny walked back out onto the main street. Still the hostile looks and mutterings greeted her as she walked down the road and stopped at the park. She watched the elderly men play chess and tried to tell herself that this is what she wanted. Sighing, she watched somebody win a game. She honestly did want to be here, with Eric and writing her book but… if the first day was looking this hard, what would the rest of the year be like? Yes, she had Eric, but she felt so disconnected from everything, something she never felt like back home.

The wind blew and she heard shouting. She turned to see a blonde-haired girl running across the playground, crying while a group of boys chased her on skateboards. Ginny frowned, why was nobody stopping them? The girl came closer, panting and visibly exhausted from running while the boys chased onwards. The girl passed Ginny, not even noticing her and Ginny let her run, wishing she had her wand to stop the boys but all she could do was watch them run after the blonde girl. But then something strange happened. Just as the boys passed Ginny on their skateboards a bump in the sidewalk seemed to come from nowhere and the boys all crashed into each other. Ginny frowned, that bump definitely had not been there before.

"Get away from them!" A woman's voice shrieked.

Ginny started and turned to the source of the voice.

"Yes, you! Get away from those boys! Billy! Billy, are you all right?"

Ginny turned back to the bump but it was gone. She squinted. No. No, it had been right there. She was positive.

"What did you do?" The woman was close to Ginny and glaring at her now.

"_Me_?" Ginny almost laughed it was such a ridiculous accusation but stopped herself. "Nothing. I was watching." She didn't add that a bump had appeared in the sidewalk from nowhere; that probably wouldn't go down well.

"You made them all trip somehow!" The woman shouted, taking two of the boys by the hand. They all looked a little dazed and two had cuts. "You – you witch!"

Ginny's temper flared. "Maybe you should have been watching them while they terrorized some poor little girl!" she said back, choosing to ignore the 'witch' comment.

The woman scoffed and led the boys away, muttering to other people, and all the while glaring back at Ginny.

Ginny wanted to scream at everyone. What was wrong with them? She went to walk back up the hill to her house but just before she started walking she caught sight of the blonde girl staring at her curiously from the branches of a tree. Their gazes locked for a second and then Ginny looked away and kept walking. Something told her that girl knew something about the mysterious bump.

Eric was still sitting at the kitchen table when Ginny arrived home, reading the muggle paper and sipping another cup of coffee. He looked up when she entered.

"Hey sweetheart, how was it?"

Ginny sat down and laid her head on her arms. She had wanted to start writing when she got back but now she didn't even want to.

"It was a disaster," she said simply.

Eric came and sat next to her, looking confused. "Why, what happened?"

She told him. "They were so – so unfriendly. I – I tried to talk but the only person who did was some girl who worked at – at the coffee shop. And now I don't even want to write my book!" she cried and hit the table. She knew she wasn't upset just because of this, there were other reasons she couldn't tell Eric.

She kept trying to convince herself that writing was what she wanted to do, and she had written many well known books but it wasn't what she truly wanted to do. She's wanted to be an Auror alongside and partners with Harry when the war was over, they would get married and be happy in life and in love and in their jobs. But it hadn't worked out that way. Harry died and she had failed the Auror exams. And what hurt most of all is that she had wanted to be an Auror for Harry, to keep her promise to him but she couldn't do it. She'd failed and that was a painful reminder that she had to wake up to every morning and pretend she didn't mind.

"I just want my wand back," she kept repeating, feeling guilty for thinking about Harry while in Eric's arms. "I – I miss my family and it's only the first day. It's so pathetic." She sighed as he stroked her back.

"Is that what you think it's like?" he asked. "That the first day is the easiest and it slowly gets harder? Because it's the opposite, Gin. The first day is always going to be the hardest and the second and the third, Merlin, even the first month is going to be the hardest. But it gets easier, every day it gets just a little bit easier because you get just a little bit stronger." He kissed her forehead and stood up.

"I'm going to leave you alone, have a nap or read the papers or something. Just relax, I promise everything looks better after a cup of coffee in the afternoon sun."

"Where are you going?"

"Just down to the pub, maybe meet some people."

Ginny sat up and straightened her hair. "Beware the townspeople, they bite," she said bitterly.

But she couldn't help but smile a bit when Eric laughed at that "I'll be careful."

"See you soon," she said as he waved goodbye.

- - - - - - - -

"So we've got no leads, no clues and nobody who wants to help?" asked Arthur Weasley of Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Well, people are scared, Arthur. Rudolphus Lestrange is no mere man to-"

"No, he really is," interrupted Bill. "He's a dark wizard and a dangerous one, too, but he is merely a man."

"-some people," continued Shacklebolt, nodding in Bill's direction. "He _is_ only a man, but the fear of him makes him more than that. He's killed countless people since You-Know-Who died and still hasn't been caught."

"I think we should start from the beginning," said Mr Weasley. He held up his hand. "One, he carries a grudge against my family and me since I killed Bellatrix a year and a half ago. Two, he still has followers who haven't been caught by the Ministry. Three…"

"-he's in disguise," finished Bill.

"We don't know that for sure, though, Bill," said Mr Weasley.

"But that would explain why he hasn't been seen in months and months," argued Bill.

"Well, disguise or not, Lestrange is causing mass panic. It's almost like being in the war again," said Shacklebolt as he looked over today's papers. "People who have personal history with him are afraid to leave their houses." He paused and thought. "And there are a lot of people who have personal history with him. You're probably the one he has the biggest personal history with him though, Arthur. He loved Bellatrix, oddly enough, very deeply. I don't doubt his intention to make you suffer the same way before he kills you," he finished matter-of-factly.

"So, you're saying I should keep a close eye on Molly?"

Bill looked grim.

"Maybe not just Molly, Arthur, maybe all your kids, too," said Shacklebolt, his voice forbidding.

Mr Weasley sat down, sighing. "I had a feeling it was going to come to this. I killed his wife and he cannot forgive that, nor does he want to. I only wish that my family could be safe."

"They can be, but we've got to work fast and hard. He's already let loose some Dementors from Azkaban, a woman was Kissed this morning."

"No!" Bill cried in outrage.

"Yes, they've hid it from the papers so far but it won't be long. Well, I'd better get going. Tonks may have some news for me at the office," said Shacklebolt. And he was out the door with a swish of his robes.

"What should we tell your mother?" asked Mr Weasley.

"Well, she already knows the basic part of it, but I think we should warn her that we're putting more protection around the house. And also tell her not to go out alone."

"Yeah, we should tell her. Maybe we could ask somebody to be a Secret Keeper for the Burrow?"

"Maybe later, if it comes to that, dad, but now it's just being careful."

"You know, Bill, when the war ended, I really thought the war had ended," said Mr Weasley, his head in his hands. "But now… now my family is in danger again."

"Dad, we all survived that war; we're going to survive this," said Bill, patting his dad on the back.

"Your mother won't be able to take this. She nearly died during the war she was so worried about all of you, how can I tell her that it's happening again?"

"It's not happening again, Dad," said Bill seriously. "It's one man, one man who is holding a grudge and a lot of hatred for us. Somehow, I wouldn't call it a war all over again." He managed to grin at his father.

"Of course, of course," said Mr Weasley as he stood up. "I'm just worried about…" he trailed off and sighed. "I wonder how Gin is doing."

"Probably meeting and charming the village people. I never did meet a girl just like her, the way people just instantly like her is amazing."

"Well she's your sister. Apart from your mother and your wife, there isn't another girl like her," Mr Weasley reminded him with a smile. "But at least she's safe. Eric can take good care of her until she comes back to London."

"Either way, we can't speak to her before the year is up so it's no use worrying," said Bill. "Are you coming home for lunch, dad?" He worried about his dad, since being promoted further; he had to cope with a lot of stress even after the war was over. The situation with Rudolphus Lestrange had been climaxing ever since the end of the War when his dad had killed Bellatrix Lestrange, his wife. Every week he was staying later at the office, determined to catch the man who wanted to catch him.

"Yeah, yeah I'm coming. I'll see you there in ten minutes. Tell your mother not to wait if she doesn't want to."

- - - - - - - - -

"Hermione?"

"In here, Ron!" Hermione called from the living room where she was reading some files from work.

"Hello, love," she said as he leant down and kissed her.

"Working from home?" he asked.

"Yeah, I didn't have much work to do except go over files that I already had here so I didn't see the need to. What about you – you're home early?"

"Yeah, I got the afternoon off. I was thinking we could go to the Burrow for lunch. What do you think? Dad said he wanted to talk to us all about something."

"Sure, sure, let me just finish with this page and get changed."

Ron nodded and went into the kitchen, Hermione appeared five minutes later in casual clothes and dark blue robes.

"Ready?"

"Ready. I…" she hesitated and then showed Ron a picture frame. "I found this in the closet where we put it ages ago. Do you – do you think that maybe we can put it back up again?"

Ron stared at the picture. The Threesome. The Golden Trio. Harry grinned out at him, lightening bolt scar hid by his messy hair. His best mate. Ron tore his glance away and looked at his wife.

"Are you ready?" he asked instead.

"I thought I was," said Hermione honestly. "But now that I look at it again it's hard – hard to remember that the Trio is only a Two now. I thought it would get easier with time…" She sighed and wiped her eyes. "… I guess not, huh?"

Ron knew what she meant.

"I just wish sometimes, that he would walk through that door, even if it meant You-Know-Who was still alive," she whispered. She sniffed and tried to smile. "But then I remember he died so things wouldn't have to be like that ever again."

Ron nodded. It was something that he never liked to talk about, even with Hermione, who he loved more than anything. Harry had been his best mate, through thick and thin and everything in between. It hurt a lot more than he liked to let on to anyone. It was hard to get up some mornings, and if it weren't for Hermione, he wouldn't get up at all.

"Me too." He held her in a tight hug and wiped away her tears. "It's always going to hurt, we've got to remember that, but it's going to get better. We'll remember less how much we miss him and more how he died for us and all the great things he did." Ron grimaced, he sounded like he was giving a speech at a funeral. It seemed to cheer Hermione up, though. He kissed her nose and she gave a smile.

"I just wish I knew why the ring went green – not black," Hermione murmured. "Of course, we barely understood the spell ourselves so…"

They had found the spell in a bunch of old parchment of Dumbledore's. All three of them, Harry, Ron and herself had been looking for a spell that would tell each other if one was dead. They would need that in the times ahead. However, although they had found the perfect spell, their knowledge of the background of the spell was limited and they only knew the basics. Dumbledore had created it himself but he had not included any information apart from what it did and how to perform the spell. So now, she and Ron had no idea what a green stone meant when, if Harry was dead, it should have been black. However if it Harry was alive, it should have been red.

"I guess we better get to lunch or there'll be nothing left to eat," said Hermione, deciding not to focus on these thoughts.

"Let's go."

The last thing Hermione saw before she flooed to the Burrow was the picture of her, Ron and Harry, laughing and smiling. She closed her eyes.

- - - - - - - -

Ginny woke with a start. The afternoon sun was setting over the house but everything was silent. Ginny walked into the kitchen.

"Eric?"

No answer.

"Eric?" she called again. She shrugged and had a glass of water. She looked out the window, and watched the brilliant red, purple, orange and pink clouds hang lazily in the sky in front of the sun. The water sparkled less now, and radiated the colour orange. Ginny decided to walk up to the cliff edge and watch the rest of the sunset. She walked up slowly, savouring the warmth on her bare shoulders. She wandered to the edge, and seeing the sharp rocks below, backed away slowly. Beautiful, but dangerous.

The small cottage about fifty yards away caught her attention. It was quite unkempt; the garden was sadly neglected and the front porch that faced the ocean badly needed a paint job and the fence around the front was broken in several parts. The windows were dark and looked uninhabited. It didn't look spooky though, just lonely and misunderstood. Perhaps like its owner, thought Ginny. The poor hermit probably wasn't that dangerous, despite what the townsfolk thought.

She roamed closer; something had caught her eye in the rubbish bin. She furrowed her brows and quickly looked in the closest window before reaching into the bin. She pulled out a paper and almost dropped it in shock. Yesterday's _Daily Prophet_ stared up at her and Ginny's heart began to beat. Yes, there was the article about her going to write a book on the second page, plus the picture. She took a deep breath, neither her nor Eric had brought the paper with them, they had brought nothing from the Wizarding world with them.

So then how did the _Daily Prophet_ get here in this rubbish bin?

**TBC…**

a/n – well apparently you can't do review replies anymore since i've been away from ffnet so unless there is something absolutely vital I won't reply. Hopefully you all enjoy the story without my wonderful, witty replies. Haha not. Anyway, if you do have a serious question I will reply regardless so ask away. I hope you're all enjoying it so far! Do keep up the reviews!s


	3. Dark secrets, simple secrets

**A/N – **yes, yes, it has been a while. I'm buried under mountains of school work though so you'll have to bear with me. I'm trying as hard as I can to spit out chapters. Enjoy this chapter… _things will start heating up soon_…!

Thanks to my beta's Naz and Aniket

**Ch 3 – **

Ginny stared at the cottage from the side door in her kitchen. It was the next morning and she was going insane wondering who the _Daily Prophet_ belonged to. She was becoming less and less convinced a real hermit lived in that cottage. She had been knocking all this morning ever since she woke up and all yesterday evening until Eric had come home from the pub. She had shouted at the door for a good fifteen minutes too, but whoever it was, they hadn't answered. She wasn't giving up though; she wouldn't stop until she found out who it was. The paper was dated the day before yesterday, so somebody was in there, even if they refused to answer the door.

A shuffle of feet distracted her and she turned to see Eric walk in the door, wincing.

"Good morning," Ginny said pertly, pouring him a coffee. Eric had walked in about eight last night and had gone straight to bed, swooning slightly. No wonder he had a headache, if he had been drinking at the pub all afternoon.

"My head…" Eric groaned.

"I don't doubt it," said Ginny as he sipped some coffee.

Eric looked sheepish.

"I take it you made some friends, then?"

"Oh, yeah, you know," he said vaguely.

"No, I don't. The townspeople didn't really take to me, remember? So tell me." She sat down across from him and waited expectantly.

"Oh, just some guys who work at the… just around the town. Café's, restaurants, clothing stores, you know. Nice guys, I don't know why you had a problem with them." He looked at her and took another sip of coffee.

"I didn't have a problem with them specifically, just the general population of people seemed very mistrusting of me," objected Ginny.

"I was just saying," said Eric.

Ginny felt slightly guilty. Eric had agreed to come here purely out of love for her. He had requested leave from a job he loved, said goodbye to his sister and followed her without complaint. He easily could have said he didn't want to make the gigantic move and live without magic for a year, but he had. And he had done it because he loved her. Funnily enough, she was the one complaining while he was taking it all positively and in stride.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm just… finding this harder than I thought it would be. Somehow, I didn't think about loneliness when I planned this book. I was so caught up about actually writing the book and now I'm here and I can't even start writing."

Eric laughed. "Gin, it's the second day, stop worrying! You're not just going to be able sit down and write; it takes time."

"Not with my other books," Ginny said, heaving a sigh.

"Well, maybe because this book is going to be different – even better," replied Eric.

Ginny smiled at him. "Thanks," she whispered. She sipped some of her own coffee and then gasped. Another, smaller bruise was covering her knee. She put down her coffee and winced as she pressed on her kneecap. That definitely hadn't come from moving all of her belongings the other day.

"Eric," she said in a funny voice. "I've got another bruise."

She lifted her leg up and showed him. He had a funny expression on his face, too. "Huh. Know how you got it?"

"No idea, but it doesn't hurt as much as the one on my shoulder did yesterday." Ginny looked anxiously at the bruise blossoming over her knee. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before. She was mystified because she could not remember getting either of the bruises.

"Maybe yesterday I…" She didn't finish, only wondered. On the coffee table? No. Maybe one of the boys had banged her knee when they fell in front of her over the mysterious bump? No, she knew none of them had touched her. Where then? Where had she gotten them?

She looked up again; Eric was looking at her weirdly.

"Yes?"

"Nothing," he said, and put his coffee cup in the sink.

"You must have a bad hangover," she teased. "Here, I'll whip you up a potion that'll fix-"

She stopped and giggled. "Sorry, no I won't. I forgot that I don't have a wand."

"The thought that counts," said Eric and he went to the bedroom. Ginny stared at his disappearing back. Sometimes he got this look in his eye; this look that made her feel… edgy. That was the only way to describe it.

"What are you going to do today?" she called after him, looking down at her knee again.

"I don't know, not much to do except go into town so I guess I'll do that. What about you?" he called back.

"Same, I suppose, unless I suddenly have an epiphany and start writing my book," she answered, clearing up the breakfast plates. She even had to wash dishes with no magic, it was so time-consuming.

For the time being, she had decided not to tell Eric about their mysterious _Daily Prophet_ reading next door neighbour. Something told her to keep it to herself until she found out who it was. And she intended to find out today, too.

- - - - - - - - -

Great job, great husband, great family and great life. So why did she feel so empty? Hermione absently cleaned the breakfast dishes, wondering what to do on her empty Saturday morning. She had so much, yet she wasn't satisfied.

Ron padded into the kitchen in his dressing robe.

"It's official, I've become my father," he announced.

Hermione rolled her eyes at her husband. "Why's that?"

"I spend my Saturday mornings in my dressing gown reading the _Daily Prophet_ instead of hanging out with mates or playing Quidditch."

Hermione laughed.

"At least I don't have an obsession for muggles," said Ron, consoling himself as he put the offending paper down on the table. "Except for maybe, this muggle born right here." He grinned and spun her around.

She smiled at him and continued washing the dishes.

"What's wrong?" he asked instantly.

She exhaled loudly. "I – I don't exactly know," she said hesitantly. She turned and faced him. "I don't feel like I have a purpose, anymore. I don't know if it's because we achieved so much so young in the war with Harry that nothing else we do compares or just because… but I don't know. I mean, we did so much as teenagers, important and grown-up things that now life is somewhat… pointless. And I feel just a little bit, well – empty."

"Yeah, maybe that, and I'm also hungry," said Ron.

"Ron!" She hit him gently.

"What? I am. But Hermione? Life isn't empty, I think it's because you were always part of a grander plan than the rest of us and to settle for less doesn't make you feel worthwhile. You're an amazing witch and I know that sometimes you wish for the excitement of the war, even if you hated the war itself."

Hermione was a bit stunned. Had Ron just said that?

"You think?" she asked quietly.

He took her into his arms. "Life fills up pretty quick, just wait a little longer; you'll see."

She had her doubts, but let him hold her anyway. She looked down at her ring, the one she, Ron and Harry all had. It was back to red, but a slightly warmer green than it had been – ever. She still couldn't get over the other night when it had gone yellow. Ron noticed her staring and asked if it had gone yellow again.

"No," said Hermione sighing. She wished it would, just to feel that feeling of absolute hope and excitement that he could be alive somewhere. But how could he be? It had been over two years.

"Damn," said Ron, letting go of her.

"Don't swear. I- I seriously thought he was alive when I saw it was yellow," confessed Hermione. "I've never felt my heart beat so hard – even during the war." She looked back down at the swirling red colours of the ring, willing it to turn yellow like it had before. She wondered if it had changed just by coincidence on the very night that Ginny had left to go to write her book.

"Yeah, me too," said Ron quietly. Hermione looked at him, biting her lip. The Ron she loved had changed a lot since Harry had died. He laughed less and joked only sometimes. The loss of his best friend had hit him harder than really anyone had suspected. And when Ron wasn't making his horrible jokes that Hermione thought she had hated, she realised she laughed less too, proving how much she really did like them. She still loved this more serious side of Ron, but nevertheless missed the old side. She knew too, that only Harry could bring it back.

But he was gone.

- - - - - - - - -

Rudolphus Lestrange was being a hunter. His prey? Muggle children. He crouched in the undergrowth of bushes, watching the children play unsuspectingly in the playground. The sun was setting over the park, casting an eerie light over the children's faces as they laughed and teased and played together. They were old enough to know the dangers of strangers but young enough to think it would never happen to them. In other words, Lestrange thought with a twisted smile, just the right age to hunt.

The park was empty, apart from the five or so children playing. The parents had obviously thought 'safety in numbers' and had let them play unsupervised. Most of the park was shielded from the quiet road that wrapped around it by tall, thick trees that blocked out the light and steep hills that prevented quick escape. He was waiting for the right moment, imagining the distress this would cause Arthur Weasley when he found out more murders had been committed under his nose.

Lestrange stepped out of the bushes. The children noticed him but then he was lost to the back of their minds, he was much less exciting than the game being played. That was until, of course, he trained his wand on the youngest one to make him start bashing his head against the pole. The others stopped and looked frightened and confused, calling out for the little boy to stop. He didn't – he couldn't.

Lestrange moved his wand over two of the other children, laughing gleefully as they felt the effect of the Cruciatus Curse. The two remaining were screaming and had finally focused their full attention on him. They tried to fun, but somehow, something was gluing them to the spot. Then Rudolphus used Imperio to make them fight each other, and they began to kick and hit and bite. They would fight until they both died. He watched for a while, and felt tempted to sit down and watch the scene unfold. Soon adults would come, but not until they heard the screams – and that could be awhile. He waited until the screams were just a loud constant noise and then Disapparated. The children would never be the same again – if they survived.

But now he had to get home.

- - - - - - - -

Ginny eyed the town with apprehension as she walked down the hill from her house; her last visit was still fresh in her memory. The town was surprisingly quiet and empty when she reached the bottom of the hill. She frowned and walked further down the main street. It was Sunday, yes, but that didn't mean anything really.

"Hey! Hey! You!"

Ginny whipped around, looking for the voice and spotted a possibly more pregnant Chelsea. She was waving at Ginny from the café she worked at, wiping down a table in the empty place.

"Hey," Ginny said as she neared her. "Where is everyone?"

"Oh, you know, at the picnic I told you about yesterday. Like, almost the whole town goes, remember? I'm about to go now, my boss is just making me clean tables later because I was late starting today. I was fighting with my boyfriend," she added.

Ginny nodded. "Oh, okay."

"Hey, you can walk with me to the field! Great, I'll be two minutes," exclaimed Chelsea and she disappeared into the backroom.

She came back out some two minutes later, minus the apron and wearing a loose white dress that fitted perfectly over her pregnant, swollen stomach and glowed against her skin. Minus the heavy makeup and gum chewing, she looked very nice.

"You look good," said Ginny, smiling.

"Yeah, so do you," said Chelsea enviously. "I wish I had long red hair like yours and that I was slim, like you."

Ginny laughed and gestured towards Chelsea's stomach. "I'm afraid you have to deal with extra weight when you have a baby." Chelsea sighed but looked mollified.

"Say, I never asked your name."

"Ginny."

"Ginny…" echoed Chelsea.

So," Ginny began awkwardly as they walked down the main street, "the baby is your…"

"Boyfriend's," Chelsea supplied with a grin. "He hasn't asked me the question yet, but he will." She looked uncertain for a split second but then beamed at Ginny again. "Do you have, like, any kids or anything?"

"Not yet," said Ginny. "But I want to – after we move back and my book is finished."

Ginny noticed many footprints in the dirt path they were now walking on towards the sound of music and laughter. She could already see boys riding their skateboards.

"Hey, I meant to ask you, where is your car?" Chelsea asked suddenly.

"My car? What?" Ginny was confused.

"You know, if you drove here, where's your car?" asked Chelsea with some suspicion.

"Oh, right, my _car_. Yes, that's um, it's… my dad drove us here and then he, um… drove back," Ginny said uncertainly.

"That's like a total waste of time for him," Chelsea told her bluntly. "Can't you drive or something?"

"Oh, yeah, not very well." That at least was the truth, Ginny thought wryly. "He was going that way for business, anyway."

"What does he do?"

Ginny's mind raced. "He's a… salesman."

"Oh, that's kinda cool. Like what does he sell?" Chelsea seemed genuinely interested.

"Um, household equipment," said Ginny.

"Well, that was nice of him to drive you. I don't know where my dad is, he walked out when I was younger."

"I'm sorry," said Ginny, not knowing what else to say.

"Oh, nah, Ed takes care of me, and I'm tight with Mum."

"Ed's your boyfriend?"

"Yeah," Chelsea, smoothing her dress. She looked nervous about something but kept on walking without speaking. Ginny took note of this but didn't say anything.

A few seconds later, they came to the edge of a large, green field and children's shouts and the smell of food swept over Ginny. She bit her lip, feeling nervous. There was some shrieking and some girls ran over to Chelsea, hugging and squealing. Ginny kept walking, noticing how people's eyes slid over her but they never said anything. Ginny hovered near the food table, watching scenes unfold before her. There were chairs and balloons and music, many little children running around underfoot (Ginny had to dodge them more than once.) The boys playing with a ball further down the field were sweating from the heat of the sun while parents looked on and chatted. There were countless numbers of picnic baskets, all filled to the top with food and drinks.

Chelsea was surrounded by admirers, but Chelsea herself kept stealing glances and a group of guys under the tree, in particular at a tall, dark haired boy drinking a beer. He was ignoring her and raucously laughing with his friends. Ginny pursed her lips, it was an age-old story and she felt sorry for Chelsea.

She was distracted when a blonde haired girl ran by her and almost knocked Ginny over. She climbed quickly up the tree the boys were standing under. Ginny stumbled and then almost did fall over when the same group of boys ran by her, calling out a name teasingly. Ginny frowned; it was the same girl too. The one who had seen Ginny looking at the mysterious bump. Ginny opened her mouth but then shut it, watching the scene unfold. Under the tree, Chelsea had approached the guy Ginny assumed to be her boyfriend. He was openly not listening to her and when she tried to kiss him he pushed her away. Chelsea frowned and looked hurt, trying to lead him away from his friends.

Ginny looked around, all of this stuff was happening and nobody was stopping it. The boys were dancing around the tree and calling out rude names to the poor girl sitting in the highest branches she could manage. Chelsea was arguing with her boyfriend now and he was laughing in her face while his friends watched, also laughing. Then he pushed her against the tree and she fell over, gasping while tears pricked her eyes.

Ginny snapped and strode over to the tree, pushing her way past the boys and then the older guys to help Chelsea. Once she was sure Chelsea could manage, she turned around to yell at the bully who was her boyfriend. But as she turned her jaw dropped and she could only stand there.

The guy's beer had floated out of his hands and was balancing precariously over his head. He was staring right back at Ginny but all she could stare at was the almost full beer bottle in the air above him. And, without warning, it tipped upside down and its contents poured down onto Ed's head, to his fury and confusion.

Something made Ginny snap her head up and she saw the blonde girl staring with the utmost concentration at Ed, fists clenched. Many people were looking on now, as Ed tried to wipe the beer out of his eyes and swore furiously. Chelsea looked nervous, but many others were chuckling or laughing outright. Only Ginny noticed the small blonde girl in the tree above. Or so she thought, a woman stood to the side, looking up at the girl with worry, seemingly torn between interfering and hanging back. Only they had noticed that the beer bottle had been floating, not being hung on a string or thrown in the air.

Ed had stomped off and Ginny was glad to see that Chelsea had not followed him but had chosen to stick with her friends, instead. She looked up at the tree again but the girl wasn't there anymore. She had slithered down the tree trunk and gone over to the woman who had been watching her, like Ginny. The woman grabbed the girl's hand crossly and led her away. Ginny watched them disappear down the path that led back to the town.

Ginny quickly ran over to Chelsea. Her friend's eyes were still red from crying and Ginny knew that she had to talk to her new friend about her abusive boyfriend. Not now, though. She had to do something else now.

"Chelsea! Who is that girl walking away now? The blonde one and she's with her mother, I think," Ginny said in a rush.

Chelsea looked around the road and spotted the pair.

"Ooh, that's Sophie. You know, the one I was like, telling you about. I hate babysitting her because she's weird and weird stuff happens around her."

Aha, thought Ginny. Her suspicions were looking even more possible.

"Where do they live?"

"Just off the main road, Market St. Number 35 or something, I think. Why?"

"Thanks, Chelsea, I'll talk to you later," Ginny called out as she ran after the woman and her daughter, while thinking Chelsea didn't even seem like she had remembered just been publicly embarrassed by the father of her child. It was beyond Ginny, if Eric ever dreamed of doing that to her she would leave.

She vaguely heard Chelsea telling her friends proudly that she was friends with the new novelist as she hurried across the field. When doing a search over the town, she hadn't even checked to see if somebody with magical powers was staying there. She had just assumed that there would be nobody. She sped up her pace, not seeing the girl and her mother.

"Market St… Market St…" Ginny said to herself as she reached the main road, looking around. She finally found it down the other side of the town and she tentatively walked down the road. Somehow, she could sense restricted magic, like it was caged or hidden. Ginny frowned, this sometimes happened when a powerful witch or wizard wasn't trained and their magic could be sensed easily by other witches and wizards. She followed where she thought the source of the magic was, wondering if the girl was powerful enough for this.

She stopped in front of an average, red brick, two storey house. Here. Ginny walked up to the front porch and paused before knocking as she heard shouting.

"-told you not to do strange things in front of people, Sophie!"

"I can't help it!"

"Yes, you can and you will! I'm sick to death of magic!"

"I CAN'T HELP IT!"

"GO TO YOUR ROOM!"

Ginny knocked.

The door opened half a minute later and a harassed and tired woman opened it.

"Yes?"

"Um, hi. I'm…" Ginny stopped. What was she supposed to say? 'I'm a witch?' 'Hello, send your daughter to Hogwarts?'

The woman looked confused.

"I'm Ginny. I just moved – Ginny Weasley. I'm a wit-um writer. I couldn't help but notice your daughter today and –"

The door was slammed in her face.

Ginny felt her hidden tempter rise. She rapped smartly on the door again, fuming. There was no need to be _rude._ She heard more shouting and the girl saying something that sounded distinctly like 'Hogwarts.' The door opened and the woman now looked impatient.

"Listen –"

"No, you listen," Ginny snapped. She was generally a sunny person but when she was angry, she got angry. "I'm a witch. I went to Hogwarts. Your daughter is a witch. She should go to Hogwarts. I know it's your decision but I can sense her magic as soon as I enter this street and that is a sign of power. And power needs to be controlled and taught to use." Ginny forced her mind not to picture the outcome of Voldemort's uncontrolled power. She'd seen this before

Ginny saw Sophie herself silently appear behind her mother, eyes curious and red from crying.

Without warning Sophie's mother sagged against the doorway and began sobbing.

"I just – just want her to be safe. I can't handle this…" She wept and Ginny looked at Sophie. Sophie was staring right back at Ginny.

"You're a witch…" she breathed, looking at Ginny in wonder. Ginny hid a smile, she had probably thought – like all Muggles – witches wore black and had warts.

She turned to her mother. "Please, Mum. Let me go."

Her mother shook her head and wiped her eyes. "Not now, Sophie. Please, not anymore."

Ginny stepped back, her anger gone. "Just think about it. Please." And she walked home, many thoughts in her head.

Later that evening, as she read the paper in the kitchen, Ginny was struck by a feeling of homesickness. It wasn't the homesickness of before, which was more dramatic and her being upset. It was a deep, lonely ache that wouldn't go away. She had grown up surrounded by her family, and when all her growing up was done – she was still surrounded by her family. Ginny sighed and put down the paper, going to bed.

She awoke many hours later and felt so wide-awake she knew straight away she couldn't go back to sleep. Instead she wrapped a light gown around herself and tip-toed out of the house and towards the cliff. Ginny wandered up the hill, relishing the soft grass under her bare feet as the warm wind blew softly through her nightgown. It was just so incredibly beautiful here. The cottage next to her was still and silent, a mere shadow.

"Whoa. . ." she breathed, eyes wide. The moon was a stunning silvery circle in the sky, illuminating a path across the water beneath it. She turned around and could see the entire village below her, all the lights out and all silent.

Another warm breeze travelled past her, lifting the hem of her nightgown so it fluttered around her legs. She didn't even realise how close to the edge of the cliff she's gotten, so close she was basically next to the dark cottage. She moved away and tried to look away, ignoring the eerie feeling of being watched.

As quick as lightening, she snapped her head back towards the cottage – almost missing the figure that slipped back into the shadows.

Aha thought Ginny. Strangely, she wasn't scared. There was nothing threatening about whoever it was. Ginny slowly moved closer. She could see the shadow staring at her now; immobile and bathed in darkness. She took a few more tentative steps closer. His movement was so small that she almost didn't notice it but a second later half of his face was lit by the pale moonlight.

That was all Ginny needed.

There was a dull roaring in her ears and her heart seemed to plummet to her feet. She couldn't breathe – she choked and couldn't see. She had hoped… always… but didn't think that…

Tears pricked her eyes and she couldn't walk any further. Only one word could cross her lips.

"Harry."

**A/n -** I couldn't think of a chapter title so anyone who comes up with a good chapter title for this one gets the next chapter dedicated to them. (some prize huh? lol.)


	4. The Disconnect and the Reconnect

**A/n – **heya! Well… back again with chapter four. Coming along, aren't we? Enjoy it and I hope everyone had a great Easter. (Yes, it was a while ago now but since I haven't posted in a while I never got to say it lol)

This chapter is dedicated to **Elmire** for coming up with ch 3's title – although she didn't realise it because I chose how she described the chapter for the title. Merci beaucoup Elmire!

**Ch 4 – The Disconnect and the Reconnect **

Ginny followed him into the cottage, walking in a daze. He hadn't invited her but nothing could have stopped her from walking in after him. Her hands were shaking and she wanted to laugh and scream and hug him. She wanted to touch him and breathe him in and take back his scent. But she couldn't. Something was wrong. Something was different. Harry was different. He didn't smile, didn't react to her presence except to steal glances at her when the moon lit up her silhouette in the dark room.

Ginny was breathing heavily, straining her eyes to see him sitting in the dark. He hadn't spoken yet and Ginny was frightened by the stillness of the moments ticking by. He was here, in front of her, like she had always hoped and dreamed for so long and… and there was nothing to say. She could tell just by the way he was sitting in silence that this Harry wasn't the same one who had walked into battle with Lord Voldemort a little under two years ago.

"Harry… what – I don't know what to say – who – why are you here?" Ginny listened to her questions fall limply to the ground like feathers. They seemed so unnecessary and stupid. She sat there in what should have been the happiest moment of her life feeling raw confusion and shock.

She squinted at him, noticing his unhealthily skinny frame and hollow eyes with bags under them. He looked desperately sick and weak.

"Hello," she whispered, not knowing what else to say anymore. Not that she had in the first place.

He answered a couple of minutes later.

"Hi."

"It's really you," she said in an even softer whisper.

He looked up suddenly. His empty eyes stared into her.

"You got married." His voice was raspy after not being used for so long.

Ginny's heart beat unsteadily. A feeling of dread swam around in her stomach, mixing with the nervous butterflies.

"Yes." She tapped her foot and bit her lip. "You know from the _Daily Prophet_?" She wasn't having this conversation. This was never how she would have pictured it. It was supposed to be happy and sunny and full of joy and love. Not like this.

"I knew as soon as you told everyone." His tone was unreadable but Ginny sensed betrayal.

"You were gone." Ginny felt her eyes burn. "All this time – all this time you made us believe you were dead – gone," she whispered, completely hurt and upset. "All this time. How – how could you do that to us? Especially us?"

"I had my reasons." He stared back at her, ignoring her tears. His hand twitched, as if he wanted to touch her but he refrained. She could see the control on his thin, pale face.

"What reason could you possibly have for that kind of rejection?" she asked him, wiping her eyes.

He didn't answer.

"Who are you?" she asked quietly, disappointment etching across her face.

He stood up and went to the window.

"You should leave here. Take that man you married with you."

Ginny couldn't even yell at him. Her temper was lost under all her confusion and joy and hurt at seeing him.

"I don't know you," she said slowly. "I don't – who are you?" She stood up and walked towards the door blindly. He didn't even turn around. She left without a second glance, and stumbled back home into her bed, lying awake for hours as single tears fell down her cheeks.

Ginny awoke the next morning alone in bed and she stretched out and stared at the ceiling. Her legs were tangled in the sheets and there were marks on the white pillow where she had cried the night before. She turned over onto her stomach and stared now at the wall in front of her. Harry's unhealthy frame kept flashing before her, as it had all night, and she had no idea how to handle it.

She looked at the empty space next to her and wondered vaguely where Eric was. She could tell by the sun that it was still fairly early. Her eyes traveled past the sun and settled on to the cottage. Harry's cottage. She looked away and bit her lip, chewing on it in frustration.

After a long a shower, Ginny walked into the kitchen and was surprised to find Eric still nowhere. She sat down at the table and drummed her fingers on the surface. She was still in a state of shock. Harry was sitting in his cottage not forty yards away from her.

"Merlin…" she sighed. If only she could contact her family and tell them… tell everyone. But then… maybe not. Something wasn't right with Harry.

"Ah, you're up early."

Ginny turned to see Eric standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

"Oh, good morning. Um – yeah I gave up on sleeping."

"Rough night?"

She opened her mouth to tell him about the night before, started to tell him about Harry but something stopped her. Some part of her was warning her not to tell Eric.

"I – not at all, no."

"Well, it's a nice day. You should go for a walk or something."

"Yeah," Ginny murmured vaguely. She furrowed her brows. "Is that what you just did?"

A pause then, "Yes."

She shrugged. "We need some food anyway so okay." She smiled at him. "We should go out to dinner one night, just us."

"It's always 'just us,'" Eric said in a strange tone.

Ginny drew back. "I – I know but-"

"No, sorry, I didn't mean that to sound bitter. I'm sorry." He came and stroked her face. "I'm just getting bored."

Ginny was silent for a second. "I really appreciate you coming here," she said quietly. "It was a big sacrifice to leave everything behind. I just want you to know that you can always go back for a while or however long you want. It's my book, not yours so you don't need to do all of this."

Eric looked undecided. "I couldn't leave you…"

"Eric, how can I make you stay? It's your decision." Ginny hugged him. "Besides, I've got stuff to do here." But it was Harry who came to her mind when she said this, not her book.

"Well, maybe I will and maybe I won't. We'll see."

Ginny nodded. "Okay."

He kissed her on the cheek and Ginny watched him walk out of the kitchen, her mind was already forgetting the conversation and going back to Harry.

She had wanted to hug him or kiss him and scream with joy. But by the way he had greeted her and the distance he had laid down, he might as well have put a brick wall between them.

"Do you want to go into the town and get some food? We're running low already," Eric called from the bedroom.

"Sure," Ginny said vaguely, her mind still on Harry.

"Sorry?"

"Sure, I'll go now," Ginny said louder as she stood up and banished Harry from her mind. She grabbed the bag of muggle money and made her way down the hill, glancing only for second in the cottage Harry was in. She had a feeling he was watching her from the window.

Once in town it was easier to forget about Harry and Ginny hurried along the main street and into the food shop. Before leaving, Ginny had gotten her dad to exchange a large amount of their money for muggle coins and notes at the Ministry. Unfortunately Ginny only had a vague idea of the notes and coins value and guessed most of the time. That and she had taken to carrying around a lot of it in a bag for 'just in case' reasons. Also unfortunate, the bag had a rip in it that Ginny had tried to repair earlier 'the Muggle way' with a needle and thread but had gotten impatient without being able to use her wand. As a result, the seam was half sown up.

So, Ginny felt little surprise when the bag broke out on the street a few minutes later while she was carrying all of her shopping bags. Money went everywhere and Ginny sighed. Just as she was about to put down her bags, Ginny heard a giggle and saw small hands scooping up the money.

"Hey!" she protested angrily.

Then she saw who it was.

It was the girl – Sophie – that was her name – which Ginny had followed home from the picnic and seen in the tree.

Ginny stood up straight and stared. Sophie just kept picking up all the money and putting it back in the bag. She seemed perfectly calm, and it was only when she finished and turned to face Ginny that she looked – seemed – nervous.

"Um, thanks," Ginny offered hesitantly.

Sophie looked torn between speaking and running off, in the end, curiosity won her over.

"So… you're a-" But it seemed she couldn't say it. "So you go to Hogwarts?"

Ginny shook her head and leant closer. "I used too, I finished," she said quietly.

Sophie took this news in.

"Is it – was it good?" she asked a few seconds later.

Ginny smiled. "The best."

Sophie had been stiff before with nervousness but now her shoulders slumped and she sighed.

"I knew that it would be," she said almost to herself rather than Ginny. "I want to go so much but…" Her 'but' hung in the air between them, an invisible barrier.

"I'm sure your mum will come round," said Ginny confidently, wanting to console her.

Sophie suddenly looked worried and her eyes darted around the street nervously.

"You can't tell my mum I spoke with you!" she said anxiously.

"Why would I tell her if you would get in trouble?" asked Ginny, baffled.

Sophie still appeared to be very nervous and kept looking around her like a frightened rabbit.

"Listen, Sophie, if you want to go to Hogwarts, you need to talk to your mother – and your father. Your dad lives with you, right?"

Sophie gave a sharp nod.

"Well, talk to them then. It's very important. I've always been a believer in all children with magical abilities attending Hogwarts. Things can go wrong if they're left out of the Wizarding world…" Ginny was thinking of Voldemort again.

"Do you think I haven't tried asking?" Sophie sounded defeated. "Have a good day."

She walked away – quickly – as if she wanted to put as much distance as she could between herself and Ginny so she wouldn't be associated with her. Ginny sighed and turned to walk back home, wishing she could help.

Ginny trudged up her hill, casting a look at Harry's neglected cottage before she went inside. The cottage looked so neglected and lonely, so troubled. Somewhat like its owner. Ginny set her bags down and made a split second decision to go see Harry. Why not? It was Harry. Harry whom she hadn't seen in so long, Harry she had loved, Harry she had nearly married.

"Eric?" she called out. "You home?"

Frowning, as she received no reply, Ginny wandered around the house, just in case he hadn't heard.

"Must have got down to the village," she said to herself. She quickly put the food away and scribbled him a quick note saying she was going back down to the village to meet someone – just in case he came home and wondered where she was.

Ginny knocked on Harry's door uncertainly. She wasn't even sure what she was going to say to him. But, he had to know or even expect that she would come again. Obviously it was a given. Well, Ginny hoped it was.

When there was no answer after a couple of minutes, Ginny opened the door herself and walked into the dim room. She hadn't had the time to notice her surroundings earlier but now she did. It was dusty, almost like it hadn't been touched in years. There were no photographs, no books or magazines. There were no walls either; it truly was just a simple shack with one bathroom. The room was lacking in the furniture department. Ginny spied only a bed that looked like it was about to collapse from exhaustion, a rickety old table and some wooden chairs. Her feet were making footprints over the dusty floorboards and she had to duck as she passed a particularly large cobweb.

He sat in an armchair facing the window. The armchair was an old and weathered flowery pattern, but it looked like the most comfortable thing in the room to Ginny. The sunlight was trying to shine through the dusty window, and had created a patchy spot of sun just to the right of Harry's armchair. It was the only light in the cottage but Harry had chosen not to sit in it.

"I can't believe you've lived her for over a year," Ginny whispered. It felt strange speaking in normal tones here.

Harry nodded.

_Neither do I_ Ginny imagined him saying back. Of course, he didn't.

Ginny looked around quite helplessly and then decided to grab one of the dusty wooden chairs and drag it over next to him. She positioned it to be in the sun and facing the window like Harry's and sat down.

"Will you tell me what you're thinking?" Ginny asked tentatively after a few minutes of silence.

"I'm not thinking of anything," was the quick and quiet reply.

Ginny didn't speak for a second, then –

"Will you talk to me then?"

"Yes. What do you want me to say?"

Ginny grabbed his hand. He started and made a move as if to pull back but he didn't.

"Talk to me, please. That's all I'm asking for, Harry."

"What do you want me to say, Ginny? You want me to explain or laugh or cry or just do something, don't you? Do you want me to give you reasons – there where the why and the how? Because I don't think I have any answers for you."

He was so straightforward; she couldn't tell a thing behind his calm façade. Harry was always someone who was easy to read, whether he was angry sad or happy. She didn't know this bitter, guarded and yet confusingly blunt person before her. Still, she got shivers just looking at him. How many nights had she dreamed that he was with her and alive again?

"Have you missed me?" Maybe she would start out simply and then slowly get to the bottom to his reasons for hiding out.

"Yes."

It wasn't as informative or detailed as she would have liked but Ginny pressed on.

"What about my family? Hermione and Ron? You miss them, right?"

"I do."

"You miss magic? Our world?" She noticed that despite the fact he wasn't doing magic, his wand lay on the windowsill in front of him. She resisted the urge to ask him how he escaped being traced by his wand; she would ask him later.

"What are you trying to say Ginny?"

"Not me, it's what I'm trying to get you to say. But you don't really want to say anything, do you?"

There was no quick answer to this question, she noted.

"You know that everyone thinks you're dead, don't you? That you died for us?"

"Of course." Harry didn't even look at her while speaking. The only hint that he was even feeling anything was the tense arm she hadn't let go of.

"Why would you make us believe that?" Ginny whispered hoarsely, her eyes searching him.

Another question he didn't answer. Ginny slowed down again.

"Why did you come to hide in this town?" she asked with genuine curiosity.

"Small. Unknown. I knew nobody magical lived here or would ever come here." Ginny thought she saw the ghost of a smile fleet across Harry's face. "It would have to be you though, who would change that."

"Funny, isn't it? That I'm the one who found you after all this time," Ginny mused, leaning her arm against the windowsill and resting on it. She watched a flock of birds flying low over the dark blue ocean and then slowly flying out of sight over the horizon.

She sensed Harry looked at her now so she didn't look back but kept staring out the window, letting him do so. She didn't mind him looking at her.

"A lot's changed in a year," she said presently.

"I can see," said Harry. He was looking over at her cottage now, which could be seen in the corner of his window. Ginny wondered if Eric was home.

"More than just me getting married," Ginny said gently, reading what she hoped were his thoughts.

"Ron and Hermione," said Harry. Ginny saw a flicker of regret in his face. And – longing.

Ginny stared at the floor now. "They wanted so much for you to be there at their wedding," said Ginny quietly. "Even now, Ron wishes you had been his best man. They always say that it didn't feel quite right that day without you there."

Harry took this in. For all his claims that he wasn't thinking anything and that he was completely calm, Ginny knew that this confirmation affected him.

"Will you never come back?"

Harry turned away. It was clear now that he was upset and what Ginny was saying was causing him distress.

"Ginny, leave it all alone. What's done is done."

"Harry, you won't even tell me what was done!" Ginny said, exasperated.

"Do you trust me?" Harry asked her.

"Yes," said Ginny, not thinking twice.

"Then trust me when I say that you don't want to know my reasons and even if you did, there is no way you could understand."

Ginny was trying not to yell.

"But do you trust me, Harry? Do you trust me that I want to know and understand what has happened. Yes, you're right, what's done is done but – Harry – will you not tell me _anything_?" Ginny leaned back in the chair. "Look at you, you've got gigantic circles under your eyes, you're way too thin to be healthy and you look like you haven't seen the sun in years. I mean, it seems to me that something is still going on. You live in this dump, this empty and dirty little cottage with nothing to pass the time and I – I'm just supposed to accept this with no questions asked? Are you serious? Are you joking?"

He didn't deny any of it, but then, he didn't answer it either. Ginny took a deep breath.

"For Merlin's sake Harry, it's me. Please."

But he wouldn't say a word.

In the end, Ginny just sat there with him for what felt like hours, frozen to her seat with not a word spoken between them. She could tell he needed company though, too long had he been starved of human interaction. Just her being there, she realised, was enough for him now. The time would come when he would open up to her. Well, she hoped so. The sunlit patch she had sat in moved slowly over the room, catching dust in its pale light.

At length, Ginny sat up and stretched, yawning as if waking from a sleep.

Harry started. "You're going?"

Was it just her – or did Harry look suddenly very alone and vulnerable?

"Eric will be home by now," Ginny said gently. "I have to go."

For the first time he appeared to hesitate and she saw a fleeting glimpse of the old Harry. "Don't – you'll be back…" he waited a second, "right?"

Ginny felt her heart pumping loudly. "I'll be back," she whispered. She looked at him sitting there in his sad, worn armchair and felt a wave of emotion. Whatever she had hoped to find, hoped to discover about herself or Eric or ways of Muggles, it had not been this. Even if she had expected to find Harry, it wouldn't have been to find him in this pitiful and strange state. It was one of the few times in her own life where she had no idea what to do next.

She stood beside him for a few seconds, confused by how hard it was to tear herself away from the silence of the afternoon with Harry. He was trying to say something and so was she, but their words caught and stuck in their throats. It was only when Ginny had turned away and was about to open the door that Harry spoke.

"Ginny, I'm – I'm so sorry," he let out. Then he turned away from her and didn't say another word – as if regretting letting the words out.

Ginny stood still for a second, facing the door and holding the handle. She nodded briefly, knowing he couldn't see. Then she opened the door and left.

She walked slowly towards her house, biting her lip and feeling even more confused by his short outburst. Sorry for what? Sorry for leaving her? Sorry for pretending he was dead? Sorry for not being able to tell her what was wrong? Sorry for bloody what? She didn't pretend to think that she didn't have feelings for him anymore, or that she had feelings for Eric too. No, what confused her – and made her anxious – was what would happen if her feelings for Harry grew back to how they once were. Because then, the book would be the last thing on her mind.

These thoughts plagued her mind like a swarm of bees as she entered the back door, dropping into one of the chairs as if she had been on her feet all day. Her head hurt like a two year old had been bashing it with a hammer. All in all, today had involved far too much stress and thinking.

Ginny stopped thinking.

Frowning, she turned her ear to the living room. She thought she had heard something, but apparently it was nothing. She shook her head and went to pour herself a glass of water. She took out the glass jug, wondering where Eric was, because he certainly wasn't home.

"_Help!"_

Ginny's heart turned to ice and she dropped the glass water jug, not seeing the sharp shards that went flying everywhere as it hit the floor with a mighty crash.

The noise had been so faint but so filled with terror she knew she wasn't imagining it. Was she? With her heart beating a wild tattoo Ginny inched her way slowly into the living room, wishing fervently for her wand.

"Eric?" she called in a low voice.

"Eric?" she called slightly louder after she received no reply.

A banging noise, still faint, reached her ears and that was it for Ginny. She ran back into the kitchen and out the back door, preparing to flee back to Harry's but ran headlong into Eric on his way up the hill.

"Oh thank Merlin…" she gasped, breathing heavily and clutching her chest. "Eric – there's – there's somebody in our house!"

Eric looked alarmed and grabbed her arm sharply. Ginny bit back a yelp and yanked her arm back.

"Ouch!"

"Ginny, what did you hear?" he asked in a low, serious tone.

"It – it sounded like, well, a cry for help," Ginny replied, rubbing her arm. "It was so faint but I'm positive I wasn't imagining it, I – don't go in there!"

Eric strode toward the back door. "Stay here," he commanded her over his shoulder as he disappeared inside.

Ginny tried to calm herself down by taking deep breaths. She looked around her, hearing the buzz of a bee and feeling the warmth of the afternoon sun but not really noticing them. It's strange how when something bizarre or scary happens people tune out to everything else.

She waited somewhat impatiently for Eric to come back out, or, someone else to come out with him. She had calmed down a bit now and was preparing to go back inside when Eric came out the back door looking perfectly calm himself – especially compared to a couple of minutes ago.

He had believed her so quickly about someone being in the house, Ginny thought suddenly. This thought disappeared from her mind with what Eric said next.

"I didn't find a thing, Gin. You really must have been imagining it."

"Wh-what?" Ginny was dumbfounded. There _had _been a voice. "How…? No, no," she said in a stronger tone, "there was definitely a voice. You mustn't have looked hard enough."

Eric shrugged. "Searched the entire house. You're just tired and need some sleep, probably. Rest assured though, nobody is in there."

"Eric," Ginny said patiently, "I know what I heard. And I heard a voice and a banging noise."

"Well, I don't know what it was, Ginny. Now do you think you could clean up that glass jug you dropped?"

"Yes," Ginny said, following him back to the house. She tentatively peeked around the corner of the living room, straining to hear a sound – just anything. Eric walked past her and into the bedroom.

"The jug?" he inquired as he walked by.

"Sure…" Ginny said vaguely. She went and started to clear up all of the pieces, wishing once again she had her wand. As she leant down to pick up some of the smaller shards she noticed some more bruises around her wrist – both of them. And some scratch marks.

She stopped and touched them gently, making sure Eric wasn't behind her. She had no idea how she was getting them but Ginny knew she wasn't imagining the bruises. Although, in this case, she actually wished she was.

- - - - - - -

Percy sat in the Burrow's kitchen, staring at his interlocked fingers and thinking. He was thinking about how he didn't like his younger sister being so far away and out of reach with a man he did not trust one bit.

Eric had many secrets, like all other people, but Percy got the feeling that his weren't as innocent as most peoples'. Trying to figure out Eric had been Percy's goal for over a year now – ever since Ginny had met Eric, in fact. Ginny hated him for it and because Ginny hated him for it and her other brothers loved her, they hated him for it too. Though, in all fairness, things had never been the same since the time he had moved away and pretended they didn't exist many years ago with You-Know-Who returning.

Now it was more like they treated Percy like one of those annoying distant cousins who pretended to know everything and they were forever teasing and pulling pranks on him. He didn't retaliate or get angry, though, he just kept hoping they would eventually truly forgive him. But then Ginny had married Eric and everything had gotten worse between him and his brothers again.

He couldn't help it though; worrying about Ginny had been the focus of his life for a long time now. As a result, his life was quite empty. He remembered being in love once of course; he'd never really had friends. Penelope, yes, he had been in love with her. That relationship had withered after he became Fudge's assistant, however. Then they just drifted apart and never spoke. He had always kept tabs on her though, he knew, for example she wasn't married or with someone at the moment, had no children, worked as a Healer at St Mungo's and lead a normal life.

What he really wanted, more than anything, was just to act like real brothers with his brothers again. To be in on their jokes, to be able to depend on them and be loved by them was something so precious and important to him that he just kept trying. He never told them this, though. They, especially Fred and George, would just laugh.

He heard his mother coming down the rickety staircase and straightened, shaking his thoughts away.

"Oh, hello dear," Mrs Weasley said, kissing him on the cheek as she walked by. "I didn't hear you come in." She didn't seem in the least surprised. He was always here, with no one or no where else to visit.

"Mum, did you used to think that I was going to be really successful and go far?" Percy asked suddenly, fingering the tablecloth.

Mrs Weasley didn't even think. "You are and have," she said simply.

"No, mother, I'm serious. Don't call me successful, I just work at the Ministry now to pass the time. And far? I'm still at the Ministry, aren't I? That's not far at all from where I started – which was at the Ministry."

"Where did this come from, Perce?" Mrs Weasley asked as she began chopping vegetables for dinner.

"Just answer, mother. Did you?"

"I told you, you are and have," she said simply.

"I just don't feel I have a life, any ambition or drive or something to be. If I died tomorrow, what would people say about me? Nothing," he finished, answering his own question.

"Maybe because you're too wrapped up worrying over Ginny, dear," Mrs Weasley suggested casually. "Maybe you should think about – now, who was that girl you used to date? Pam? Paula?"

"Penelope."

"I've always meant to ask you whatever happened with that, you two seemed wonderful together."

"We were different," Percy lied. In truth, they had never really broken up, just stopped talking because of the different things they were doing.

"Really? I always thought you were so alike," Mrs Weasley observed offhandedly, chopping up some onions. Percy was silent.

A little while later, Mr Weasley returned home and Percy left them to be together. Somehow, later that evening, despite what he had said to his mum, he found himself knocking on Penelope's door that evening.

She opened the door, her soft, light brown hair being the first thing he noticed. She saw who it was and opened the door completely, framing the doorway.

"Percy?"

Uncertainty.

"Ah, hello Penny – Penelope, sorry," Percy said hastily. He looked and felt awkward.

"Hello." She looked confused. "Um, come in?'

Percy did so, shutting the door behind him and fussing with his robes nervously before he followed her into the kitchen. The house seemed empty he thought.

"Tea?"

"Yes please."

She brought two mugs to the table and sat down opposite him. He was aware of her confusion so he cut straight to it.

"Do you remember us?"

She looked less nervous and smiled warmly.

"Of course, Percy."

He smiled back at her, ignoring his flaming ears and neck.

"Would you – would you like to remember – together?" he asked.

She waited before replying.

Then: "I'd love to."

**A/N – **for those thinking the part with Percy is random, never fear, it ties in later. Thanks so much for all your reviews – they really make my day!


	5. Remember When

**A/N – **Well hello! How are we all? Well, here I am, spitting out another chapter. How do I do it? I seriously don't know, I somehow fit it in with the milliseconds of free time I have these days. Woot! Haha. Anyway, as usual, I hope you like it. (Obviously I hope you like it, why else would I be writing – apart from for me).

Anyway, everyone give a big thanks to Naz and Aniket. There would be no chapter without them!

**Ch 5 – Remember When**

**Dedication: **Tamaran Girl – _I absolutely adored your review. Seriously, I had this big ridiculous grin on my face the entire time I read it. And the second and third time. Definitely got some warm fuzzy's. This chapter's for you!_

Ginny lay in bed, squeezing her eyes shut. Something important was hammering in the back of her brain but she couldn't for the life of her figure out what it was. Giving up, she got up and went into the kitchen. Eric was reading a book, his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration and Ginny didn't want to disturb him so she set down his coffee a few minutes later, and flipped through some of the planning pages of her book. She needed a muse or something to prompt her imagination to create words.

Eric suddenly got up.

"Where you going?" Ginny asked.

"Going to get my washing. Is that a problem?" His tone was light but there was a challenge.

"Oh, no, sorry," Ginny answered with surprise. "Just wondering…" she muttered. She frowned to herself as he left the room. What was with Eric? In London, he was the most amazing, intelligent and down to earth guy. She loved his stimulating topics of conversation and how he made her laugh. But here, he was some moody stranger a lot of the time. She didn't understand.

She heard a cry of exasperation and Eric stomped back into the kitchen.

"Look," he said indicating his now pink clothes.

Ginny laughed. "Oh dear, that must have been the red sweater I put in at the last minute." She chuckled. "Sorry, hun."

"What kind of idiot does that sort of thing?" Eric fumed.

Ginny stopped laughing immediately. "Excuse me?" she asked in disbelief.

"You heard me."

"I hope I didn't. The clothes can be easily fixed, Eric. Your attitude lately apparently can't though," Ginny said icily.

Eric threw the clothes on the floor.

"You can do it then."

Ginny glared at him and then turned her back to him. "Maybe next week if I find the time."

He was silent for a few minutes and then he came down and sat across from her.

"Gin, I'm sorry honey. I – I just didn't get a lot of sleep last night. This town… well it's hard for me to be here, wandless, friendless, and jobless. I get frustrated."

Ginny looked at him. "You came here. You knew what you were getting into and what it would be like. I didn't come here to fight with you and get distracted from writing my book. I don't take rudeness lightly, you know that. And what you just said was completely unnecessary." She put down her coffee and leaned forward. "Maybe… maybe you should find some way of getting out of town for a while or something – I mean in your best interest. We did talk about it before and you're obviously not happy so why not take a break from it?"

Eric looked torn. "I couldn't leave you…" he trailed off.

Ginny shook her head. "No, judging by this and other times, it could be better for both of us." She managed a tight smile. "It's my book, not yours, so there's no problem with you leaving."

Eric looked hesitant. "Well, perhaps it's good we're having this conversation because I have something to tell you."

Ginny raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"I brought a Portkey with me – just in case anything like this happened."

"You – you what? You brought a Portkey! We agreed we would take nothing magical!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Well it's a good thing I did, giving our current situation," Eric argued.

"You lied to me then," Ginny said flatly. "I suppose it doesn't really matter but I would have preferred if you hadn't. And obviously you knew that, otherwise you wouldn't have hidden it from me. Well, I guess it will come in handy now. I assume it goes to London?"

"It does."

Ginny sipped her coffee and shrugged, deciding that she wasn't going to yell at him. She would wait until he and she were in a normal mood and speak to him calmly about everything. She felt the small hairs on the back of her neck prickle and she looked up to see Eric looking at her. And then it happened. It was only a split second, but it terrified Ginny beyond words.

_She was in the kitchen, and Eric was looking at her with a triumphant expression as she cowered on the floor, crying and in pain. He was laughing at her, waving his wand just out of reach as she cried in shock and fear. _

Then BAM, quick as the flashback started it ended and Ginny was sitting at the table still, as Eric looked at her calmly over his cup of coffee.

"What? What is it?" he asked, seeing her terrified and shocked face and heavy breathing. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing," Ginny said, shoving the images into the back of her head. The flashback – or whatever it was – was already beginning to fade into her memory as she struggled to breathe easily.

"So you're okay with me going back to London for a short time?" Eric asked.

"Yes," Ginny said shortly, gaining her composure. "I – I need to get – go have a shower."

Later on, Ginny sat on her bed wondering what had happened earlier in the kitchen. Obviously it had never happened… but – what in Merlin's name did it mean? Was it some sort of vivid déjà vu? A nasty dream she was only remembering now? She bit her lower lip and stared around the room for something to concentrate on, something that would distract her from her confusion.

- - - - - - - -

Percy knocked on the door to his father's office.

"Come in," his father called from within, sounding harassed.

Percy pushed the door open with apprehension, pushing up his glasses nervously as his father looked up at him in surprise. The office was a shambles, papers were lying everywhere, and he could see scorch marks from Howlers all over his dad's desk.

"Percy! What are you doing here – shouldn't you be at work?" Mr Weasley questioned, getting up to give his son an awkward hug. He didn't see Percy often, nobody else in his family apart from his wife did either. Many of them still hadn't forgiven Percy for his actions a few years ago. It was, in their perspective, the worst type of betrayal that can be committed. Percy straightened his robes and side-stepped some owl droppings.

"I – I wanted to come talk to you about the Rudolphus Lestrange case," Percy began, fidgeting with his fingers.

Mr Weasley leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Ah, yes. Well, I never stop talking about it so go ahead, son."

"I know I'm in a separate section of the Ministry to you, and International Magic Co-operation has little to do with this case but… but I'd like to help."

"Well, I work in a section for Muggles so I have just as little to do with it than you," Mr Weasley countered. "Why do you want to help? There are many people already working on this." He studied his son thoughtfully.

"Well, for all these people working on it, there doesn't seem to be many results," Percy argued, frustrated. "Rudolphus Lestrange is still a free man."

"Because he's always one step ahead of us," stated Mr Weasley. "We need to at least get on the same step as him," he added.

"I can help," Percy said, leaning forward in his seat and looking at his father seriously. "Because of how close I used to be to previous ministers for magic, I have access to many files that other people – and you – won't."

"Well, that's all well and good, Perce, but what will files do for us? The man is very smart and probably absolutely crazy. Smart and crazy are a dangerous mix – but still a clever one. That's why he's not getting caught."

Mr Weasley stood up and held his hands behind his back, pacing across the room in thought.

"He's in disguise. That's a problem within itself – who's he disguised as? Is it a Muggle or one of us? Are they an important or influential figure – or are they someone unremarkable and can therefore go anywhere? He's also got very strong powers, he single-handedly convinced the Dementors to join him fighting us. Why though? What's the point? The war was won over a year ago." Mr Weasley turned to Percy, deep in thought. "He knows a lot of spells from You-Know-Who, making him powerful. We know he has a grudge against me and probably the rest of my family. But what's driving him? What else is he trying to do? If we knew that, then maybe we could figure out his ulterior motives other than killing me."

Percy shrugged. "Maybe that's all he wants to do, kill you."

Mr Weasley shook his head. "No, no, it's more than that. If that were the case, what's stopping him killing me now? Nothing. It's easy for him to get me, with the talent he has with a wand in his hand. He knows spells I can't even dream of. So then why rise the Dementors? Why attack Muggles? Why-"

"Wait, attack muggles? When?" Percy interrupted, questioning.

Mr Weasley rubbed his forehead wearily. "A few days ago. He attacked five young muggle children in a park in the outer region of London." He sat down again.

"What did he do to them?" Percy was shocked and stunned.

Mr Weasley described the horrific damage done to the children. Percy shuddered with revulsion. One of them was dead, after repeated bashing of his head against a metal object.

"It looked like he had been forced to do it. The other four might as well be dead, and one of them probably will die soon because of the damage to his brain from the Cruciatus curse. He was too young to handle it." Mr Weasley clenched his fist and then let it go.

"How did you know it was him?"

"Well, who else? And one of the children was able to describe him before the full effect of what was done to him affected his brain."

"And nobody knows what he's doing?" Percy asked, knowing the answer.

"Not a clue. Why would he waste time on children? It's like Voldemort in the war – sheer destruction of lives and things just to create fear."

Percy sighed and then he froze. "Dad, he's wants to re-start the war! That's what he's trying to do – that's why he wants the Dementors and that's why he attacked the Muggle children. He wants to yes, plant fear, but also to make us angry enough to fight back… to take part in the war!"

Mr Weasley was silent for second. "That's pretty far-fetched, Perce." But he appeared to be deep in thought about this.

"He knows hurting Muggles will spur the involvement of the Ministry!" Percy exclaimed.

"But to what purpose would he want that?"

"To re-start the war?"

"Yes."

Percy shook his head. "That's obvious, isn't it? He wasn't happy with outcome of it."

Mr Weasley had stood up in excitement. "Yes! Yes! And why he disappears for periods at a time is to recruit people to fight on his side – people who were not satisfied with the result of the war either. Perce, that's it! We've got to tell the Minister." He paused. "This might not be taken well, though Perce. I just have to warn you. The Ministry probably won't believe it at first, they're still so wrapped up in fixing damage from the first war."

Despite this, Percy couldn't help feeling proud as he followed his father out of the office. This was his father's acceptance in letting him help with the case.

- - - - - - - -

At that very moment, Rudolphus Lestrange was standing under a hooded cloak in an alley that looked out on the small town he was in. He lowered the hood as people walked by. People looked at him strangely for a second and then promptly forgot about him, taking him for a poor man without a home. He smiled a slow smile as he leaned casually against the corner wall of the alley. He glanced quickly at the large clock atop of the town hall and felt a shiver of delight travel down his spine.

The clock struck twelve.

Lestrange watched the scene unfold before him. Slowly the Dementors slithered across the ground of the town, coming from the forest. The townspeople sniffed the air curiously, feeling the melancholy atmosphere that settled over the town like a weight. The sky seemed to grow grey and the temperature dropped several degrees each second. He kept smiling; know he was immune from all that was happening. The Dementors wouldn't touch him because he controlled them.

A mother was the first to fall. She couldn't see the Dementor but it saw her. It Kissed her in front of her children, all they saw was their mother's mouth open wide and her wordless scream. Then she sunk to the ground and her children pulled at her hands, for the first time she didn't respond to their pleas and cries as more townspeople fell around them.

Lestrange walked away, the hood was still pulled low over his face. There were a few witches and wizards who lived in the town and they would know instantly what was going on.

So Lestrange walked away, ignoring the screams of fear and confusion with a smile.

- - - - - - - - - -

Ginny stared at her empty bed and leaned against the door, sighing. Eric was gone. He hadn't said where and she didn't know when but she knew he'd used the Portky to go to England. When he had told her he brought the Portky she had had no idea what to say. She had felt betrayed and lied to but she didn't want to seem dramatic. Also, she's just had that horrible vision where Eric was standing over her and torturing her. Now what had that been about?

It had scared the wits out of her and she was still just as confused about what it meant. Or maybe it didn't mean anything, maybe it was just her lack of sleep, stress over the book and at finding Harry. Maybe it was just a result of all that. Her imagination running away.

Ginny wandered into the kitchen, slipping into the slither of orange light from the setting sun that was coming through the window. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. The day had been a blur for her, she couldn't even remember what she had done this morning. She glanced over at Harry's cottage and bit her lip. Should she…? No. She couldn't. But if… Eric wasn't back yet. There was no harm in just… saying hi.

Ginny gathered her resolve and made two cups of tea, all the time starting at the cottage across from her. She made her way across the soft, dewy grass slowly, taking as long as she could. Her heart was beating even now, at the thought of seeing him. This Harry that existed now created nervousness and tension within her. Quickly, she darted a look back at the town, keeping an eye out for Eric but she didn't see him.

Ginny took a deep breath and knocked on Harry's door.

For once he answered. He stared at her and for a split second, Ginny thought she saw a fleeting look of longing on his face but it was gone as soon as she tried to look deeper. He settled a mask over his face and didn't say a word, he waited for her to speak.

"Watch the sunset with me?" She held out the cup of tea in her shaking hand. He took it and then stared at her again. Always with that empty stare.

"Shouldn't that be what you do with your husband?" Ginny sighed. She hated the way he said "your husband."

Ginny paused for a second. "It fits better with you," she replied finally, confused by how true that was.

Their eyes met and lingered for a second and Ginny's heart skipped a beat.

"Okay."

Ginny trembled and thought that if she was cold, then Harry must be freezing. A gust of wind looked like it just might blow him away and then she would never see him again for real. She wished he had a mirror so he could look clearly at himself.

"Where is he?" Harry asked after a couple minutes.

"He – oh, Eric. He's, well… I don't know, exactly," she said uncertainly, deciding to be honest.

Harry nodded and stared out over the ocean. She didn't know what he was thinking. The sun made his eyes warmer, Ginny decided. He looked a little more alive. She stared out over the ocean too, resiting the need to look at him and drink in the sight of him and tell herself it truly was real.

"You chose a nice place," she said softly, hugging the cup of warm tea to her. "It's… nice."

He nodded.

Ginny felt herself falling backwards through time, remembering times they had watched the sunset together before he had disappeared. The war had been happening around them but still they had found time to themselves, to show their love for each other.

"We... we really loved each other, didn't we?" Ginny mused aloud, listening to the waves crash against the rocks at the bottom of the cliff. "It seems so long ago now, but we loved each other back then."

Harry looked at her quickly and then looked away. She could see his hands clenching the tea cup he hadn't drunk from yet.

"I was young and so were you," Harry answered finally.

Ginny gripped her own tea cup tightly and tore her eyes away from him. "Yeah," she said vaguely. "Yeah." She refrained from saying it wasn't so long ago – it just seemed like it. It had been a long year. "But remember when?" she asked with a trace of uncertainty and a little bit of hope.

Harry opened his mouth and then promptly shut it. Ginny turned to him.

"Yes?" She spoke gently, as if not to scare him.

"I… Nothing. I just – remember when…"

Ginny leaned closer.

"That time we were together… it wasn't long – but time stood still."

Ginny felt her breath hitch and she had to bite her lip to stop the single tear that threatened to fall.

"I remember," she whispered and then turned away. The tear fell and she wiped it away. There were no more.

Ginny closed her eyes and felt the warmth of the sun on her shoulders, while the side of her in shadows was cool. Harry had opened up for a few seconds and she had glimpsed a real person inside the shell he inhabited. She waited a few minutes and then turned back to him.

"Harry, please tell me what happened," she said urgently.

"Don't, Ginny." Harry closed up.

"Please, you can't not tell me. It's unfair on me, on my family; on Hermione… You left us all behind, Harry. You don't understand what we've been through! We-"

"And you don't know what I've been through!" Harry yelled. He was shaking. "Am I not allowed secrets? Privacy? You have no idea what happened so _don't_ make yourself the victim, Ginny. Don't do it."

"You can say anything, Harry. It's just me," Ginny said quietly after he stopped yelling. He made her scared; she was terrified of whatever had happened to him because it had changed him so drastically.

"Just you?" Harry asked, pointing toward her home. "Is Eric included in 'just you'? What do you tell him about me?"

"Nothing."

"What does he ask?"

"Nothing."

"Well – what does he-"

"Nothing, Harry!" Ginny said sharply. "Because I haven't even told him you're here – that you exist!"

"You – you haven't?" Harry looked away and then he got up. The sun was sinking fast below the horizon now and cast eerie shadows around them. He looked like her answer had confused him and he did not know how to answer.

"Please, just tell me. That's all I'm asking for," Ginny begged.

Harry shook his head and gave her a momentary look of something she couldn't decipher and then slipped back inside his empty house.

Ginny looked down at the teacup she'd given him. It was still full.

- - - - - - - - -

"I'm never going to be good enough for them," Percy said in frustration.

"No, I'm sure that's not the case," Penelope said confidently, refilling his cup with fresh coffee.

"I just don't know what to do. Every time I go home my brothers ridicule me and laugh at me. They'll do anything to make sure I feel like I don't belong in the family because in their minds, I don't."

"And this is all because of that time you thought they were wrong about You-Know-Who being back?"

"Yes," Percy said, drinking some of his coffee and grimacing at how hot it was.

"Oh is it bad?" Penelope asked with worry.

"Oh, oh no, Penny. It's very nice - just hot," Percy replied.

She smiled at him and he smiled back, feeling butterflies in his stomach. It was beyond him how Penny could still like him, or how she even liked him in the first place. She was just perfect. She had invited him over for dinner and he felt bad because for the past half an hour he had been telling her all about his family problems. What was he thinking!

"I'm sorry Penny, I hope I'm not boring you," Percy said awkwardly.

She sat down across from him and leaned over to pat his hand. "Percy, I love to hear anything. I just wish you could work things out with your brothers and Ginny."

"Well, I have even less of a chance with Ginny. Firstly, she's far away and secondly, that husband of hers doesn't like me."

"What's he like?" Penny asked curiously, sipping her coffee.

"I don't like him," Percy said instantly. "Not at all."

"From the beginning?"

"The second I laid eyes on him I didn't like him. But the rest of my family did so…" He sighed and then laughed bitterly. "Maybe if I had said I thought he was great then they would have hated him."

"Haven't you told your family that you're sorry for the decisions you made earlier?"

"Too many times to count, I just gave up. I don't understand it, Penny, it was years ago now. Sure, I stayed on after Fudge left but I left about a year and a half later. I realised how corrupt it was and so I apologised. But by then… my apology wasn't wanted – or even good enough!" Percy shook his head. "I'm sorry, Penny."

Penny nodded but didn't say anything. She was angry at Percy's brothers. They'd never truly understand him, he was so special and unique. The side that Penny saw, they chose not to see. They couldn't appreciate him for who he really was. He was stubborn and bossy, yes, but he was strong and he was tender and so sweet to her. They Weasley boys would never see that. And if they weren't careful, they could miss out on getting the chance to.

She decided then and there to do something about it. She was going to change the way they treated Percy.

She smiled over at Percy and he smiled back. Even without words, it was understood that they were together now, and probably forever.

- - - - - - -

"Are you home, Hermione?" Ron called from the front door.

"In the living room," his wife called out to him. Ron grinned, and imagined all the things they would be doing for their quiet night in. He walked into the living room and then stopped short at the sight of Hermione sitting before a piles of books, papers and drawings.

Ron leant against the door and rolled his eyes. "Some men's wives cheat on them with other men, mine cheats on me with books." Despite this statement, there was a look of affection on his face as he looked at Hermione.

Hermione laughed. "Ron, I-"

"Nope, no speaking. I'm going to give you a choice." Ron raised one hand with a flourish. "First choice: a quiet night in with _me_. Second choice," he raised his other hand," a quiet night with _books_. But you cannot, I repeat, cannot have both. I'm tired of competing with objects that are smarter than me."

Hermione hid a grin. "That covers basically everything," she joked.

"Nor will I be teased unjustly!" Ron countered, feigning mock-anger.

Hermione laughed and the pushed the books away dramatically. "I've chosen," she said.

"Wise choice," said Ron as he sat down next to her on the couch and kissed her on the cheek. "So what are they for, out of curiosity?" he asked, nodding at the vast number of books and sheets.

Hermione looked undecided. "Well, I don't really know."

Ron snorted.

"I know what they're supposed to help me with!" Hermione said indignantly, shoving him gently. "I just don't know whether they will – are."

"And what's that?"

"Well…" Hermione inhaled and positioned herself on the couch so that she was facing Ron. "Ok."

Ron raised an expectant eyebrow. "Should I sit back?"

"No, no," Hermione said with a touch impatience. "But I do need you to be serious."

Ron looked hesitant. "Is everything okay?" he asked awkwardly. He toyed with the tassels of the cushion in his lap. His large hands were clumsy so he just kept creating knots in the string.

"Not that serious," Hermione said and she pulled the pillow away from him. "Ok, Ron, did it ever make you feel weird that we had Harry's funeral without a body? Like, it didn't feel _right?_"

"Well, obviously," answered Ron, furrowing his brows. "But it does happen all the time."

"Yeah, that happens when a soldier goes missing in war and they assume he's been blown up or they get washed overboard and are never found. This is Harry, we don't even know what has happened to him!"

"Well," Ron said slowly, "he's dead, Hermione." He raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, yes, say that's the case-"

"That _is _the case," Ron interrupted, looking confused.

"Just listen, ok? This is Harry, our best friend. We don't even know where his body _might_ be let alone is. We don't know where he died or how he died or even when he died." Hermione stood up and faced Ron. "All we know, is that our two rings that are connected with Harry's never went black like they should have if one of us died. Instead, ours went green."

"I told you, we probably made a mistake with the spell."

"And I told you," Hermione said sharply, "that there was absolutely no mistake with those rings. We tested it, remember? We made one set before this one and the ring that had an insect antenna in it went black when we killed the insect."

"That was an insect," Ron argued. He yawned and then held up his hands apologetically when Hermione glared at him.

"Humans, insects, animals, mammals, reptiles, they're all the same thing; they're _alive_," said Hermione firmly. "There was no room for mistake."

She resumed pacing.

"Well, we didn't make the spell, Dumbledore did," said Ron, watching her impatiently. This night definitely wasn't turning out to be as quiet or relaxing as he had planned. "Maybe there were some conditions we didn't know about. Look, can we talk about this later?" He never liked talking about Harry; it was still such a sore wound.

"But none of that explains why the stone went yellow a while ago! I've been through all Dumbledore's notes, it doesn't say a thing."

"And it doesn't say a thing about them going green when one is dead, either," Ron pointed out wearily.

"Exactly, Ron!" Hermione said in excitement. "What if… what if he was still alive somewhere?"

"Okay, Hermione, I think that's enough for now," Ron said as he got up. "I'm tired."

"Ron just listen to me, please! What if he was alive? Think about it – I have. We never found his body, we never found any evidence that he had died… It's so possible!"

"Yes, Hermione," Ron said quietly, "but you're forgetting one thing. "If Harry was alive he would let us know. Even if he was on the brink of death he would find some way of letting us know he was still here, that he was still alive. The Harry we knew would never be so selfish as to make us suffer like this, to never truly know. This is exactly how we _truly _know he is dead; because he would have contacted us otherwise."

"What if he couldn't?" Hermione asked instantly. "What if something or someone was stopping him? That's just as probable," she insisted, catching Ron's hand as he tried to turn away. "Or maybe," she whispered, "the green ring _is_ his way of letting us know he is alive. I can't live without being sure," she whispered. "I can't live peacefully without knowing that Harry is really dead or if, by some miracle, he is alive somewhere and needs help. I _need_ to find out. Please, Ron, will you help me? I just want to know what happened that night that he died."

Ron sighed. And then he nodded slowly. Deep down, a part of him hoped just what Hermione had been voicing before. Deep down, he wanted to know what happened the night Harry died, too.

- - - - -

Ginny walked back into her home with a curious feeling of longing. She watched the night envelop the sky, sucking up the beautiful sunset she had just witnessed with Harry. She leaned over the kitchen counter and closed her eyes, bottling up the desire to go back to Harry's cottage. All she wanted to do was gaze upon his face and never lose sight of him again. He seemed like a painting, a painting that you looked at once and then it devoured your mind and soul because you longed to see it again and unravel its mystery.

Once she had controlled herself Ginny stood up properly. She could sense at once that Eric was not home yet; the house felt too empty. She wondered where he was and what he could be doing at this time. And then she wondered if he was even coming home tonight. She made herself a small dinner of salad and noodles (that were mushy because she didn't know how to cook them properly) and then fell asleep early on her bed with a book over her face and the light still on.

A few hours later she woke up aware that Eric was home. He entered the room and fell into bed next to her. Then he reached over to her and pulled her to him, kissing her. Ginny sighed; she knew what it was that he wanted.


	6. Revelations

**A/n – **_finally, another chapter. About time, right? Enough said. Enjoy! _

_Thanks to aniket and naz… _

**Ch 6 – Revelations **

Ginny rose before her husband in the morning, slipping quietly out into the kitchen after dressing. It was a clear, bright morning a couple weeks after her sunset watch with Harry. She hadn't been over to see him since, because she hadn't the courage. She got this feeling that, if she saw him too much, she would want him too much and that wasn't allowed. She caught sight of her reflection in the window and winced at another bruise on her collarbone. She kept putting it down to having weak blood or a bad immune system but Ginny knew it wasn't that. Weak blood, however, was an explanation that scared her far less than an unknown one.

On her way down to the shops to get some food, she stopped by the café to see Chelsea, who was taking orders with a dejected air. It was funny because back home in London, somebody like Chelsea wasn't someone who she would normally talk to or feel interested in.

"Hey!" Ginny said, coming up behind Chelsea.

Chelsea turned around with an excited expression but it fell when she saw Ginny. "Oh, hi!" she answered, trying to smile again.

Ginny pulled a face. "Not who you wanted to see?"

"I thought it might have been my boyfriend," Chelsea admitted with a dim smile as she went to go give in an order. Ginny followed her.

"I wasn't aware I could sound like a male," Ginny said wryly, grinning.

Chelsea gave her an apologetic look and then she sighed loudly. "I'm pregnant and you think that would like, mean something to him, wouldn't you?"

"Yes. What did he do?"

"He thinks we should take a break for a couple of weeks or something," Chelsea began, as she carried a cup of coffee over to a customer, with Ginny close at her heels.

Ginny stared blankly. "A – a break? You're pregnant! He cannot take a break from a child."

"Apparently he can," Chelsea muttered. She turned around and stared at Ginny, looking utterly confused. "Is that… normal? Should I allow that?"

"No!" Ginny cried with outrage. "He has an obligation to you. Tell him that. If he doesn't listen, say… just threaten him with please-men."

"With – with what, sorry?" Chelsea frowned.

"Um, please-men?" Ginny asked nervously.

"Oh policemen! Sorry, you just have like, a funny accent."

Ginny laughed nervously, silently feeling furious at her father for telling her the wrong word for Muggle law-enforcers. "Yes." She suddenly noticed that Chelsea was looking at her bruise and tried to cover it up casually.

"So, where's your boyfriend now?" Ginny asked, trying to distract Chelsea.

Chelsea looked uneasy and her eyes kept flickering towards the large bruise on Ginny's collarbone.

"You know I'm always here to talk to, right?" Chelsea asked her, ignoring Ginny's question.

"Right," Ginny replied, puzzled. "Um, thankyou."

"Okay, good." She was still looking at Ginny and her bruise nervously.

Ginny decided to come right out and ask. " Chelsea, what is it?" she asked impatiently, trying to cover her bruise again.

"No-nothing, I – well I just… Ginny how long has your husband been hitting you?" she said quickly.

Ginny's jaw dropped. "Excuse me?" she asked in disbelief.

"I know," Chelsea whispered. "You don't have to lie."

" Chelsea," said Ginny,not even trying tohide her confusion. "I think you've got the wrong idea. Eric doesn't hit me. Trust me, I'm not the type to just take that and stay with him."

Chelsea shook her head. "Denial is the first part, Ginny."

" Chelsea – there's nothing to deny! Okay?" Ginny felt angry. She didn't want stupid rumours like this floating around the town, "I don't know where you got this idea from but it's completely wrong and out of order so please don't bring it up ag-"

"Ginny, please don't try to pretend. I know." Chelsea looked at Ginny with pity.

Ginny hated pity but Chelsea seemed so convinced. "I – what? How – how could you know that? It never happened."

"I went up to your house about two weeks ago to say hi and I heard you screaming in like, _terror_, and him yelling. Ginny, you don't have to lie to me."

"I'm not lying…" Ginny whispered, her eyes vacant. She was remembering with sickening detail the mysterious black eye that had appeared overnight two weeks ago. She'd had no recollection of getting it and she had put it in the back of her mind so it wouldn't scare her. But it wasn't Eric. Chelsea had obviously gone to the wrong house or mistaken one of their arguments for physical abuse or something.

"Ginny?"

Ginny was trying to breathe properly. "Look, Chelsea, I have to go. I'll speak to you later or… or something."

She walked away from the café quickly and made quick work of her shopping. She was trying to make sense in her head of what Chelsea had been telling her. Obviously it was wrong, but what about the screaming Chelsea said she had heard? It couldn't have been the wrong house; Ginny had been very exact in saying which of the three houses up on the hill was hers.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't hear the shouted warning just before she collided with somebody on the sidewalk. She dropped her bags and just stopped herself from falling over. She fell to her knees and then found tears pricking her eyes. She sat there for over a minute, lost in confusion, until she finally became aware of a small child's voice and a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

Ginny looked up into the gentle eyes of Sophie, the small girl with magic powers.

"Yes, yes, I'm so sorry," Ginny said, getting slowly to her feet and wiping her eyes quickly. "I was daydreaming and I didn't even see you. I hope you aren't hurt?"

"No," said Sophie shyly. She picked up Ginny's bags. "This is the second time you've dropped your bags when I'm near you," she added. A small frown creased her smooth forehead after she said this, like she regretted saying it. "Not to be rude!" she said quickly.

"No, it's true," replied Ginny, smiling. "It's very clumsy of me." She took the bags from Sophie and stared down at her. "So, have you asked your parents anymore about Hogwarts?" Ginny asked.

Sophie shook her head. "It only makes them upset. You see, dad's brother married a witch. They were both killed by another wizard and daddy said ever since then he and mummy couldn't risk anything happening to me."

"Hogwarts is completely safe!" Ginny protested. "I mean, things have happened there but given that there is no longer a war going on, Hogwarts is so safe."

"It's a funny name for a school," Sophie commented, looking eagerly for Ginny's agreement.

Ginny smiled and nodded. "I told you though, it was the best. I only wish you could have met Dumbledore."

"What was it like? Was learning magic hard?"

"It was hard but it was so much fun. I always felt sorry for Muggle children, having to do things like math."

Sophie looked so wistful Ginny could have hugged her. "I wish I could go," Sophie whispered. "And I wish mum and dad weren't scared of magic." She looked wistful and began peppering Ginny with more questions about Hogwarts. Were there more boys or girls? Houses? Which one was the best to be in? Was the headmistress nice? What are the different subjects?

Her questions were cut short before Ginny could answer most of them however, by the shrill voice of her mother.

"Sophie! Sophie, what are you doing?"

She came over and grabbed Sophie's hand, trying to pull her away. Ginny saw who she assumed to be Sophie's father heading boldly in their direction, too. She sighed and mouthed goodbye to Sophie.

"Mum, please – please just-"

"Listen, Ginny, isn't it?" Sophie's mother said in a cold, tight voice. "We know you're a nice person but we don't want Sophie mixing with magic. Please don't tempt her with stories or… whatever you're telling her."

"It's a bit hard for her not to mix with magic when she's a witch, isn't it?" Ginny said benignly.

Sophie's father, who had just reached them, heard this question and glared at Ginny. Ginny shrugged, as if to say it was the simple truth.

"We were doing fine until you started talking to her," Sophie's mother said curtly. She looked at her husband and he nodded at Ginny before taking Sophie's shoulder firmly and leading her away. Ginny turned and began walking in the other direction, feeling sorry for Sophie but not knowing what to do to help her.

There was a muffled bang noise from behind her and Ginny whipped around to see a puff of smoke around Sophie's parents, who leaping apart in shock as Sophie ran back to Ginny.

"Sophie, I can't-" Ginny began helplessly, whilst looking at the quickly disappearing smoke.

"Listen, every Sunday I've got a job to go take our next door neighbours horses up to the fields and let them graze. Do you think that maybe you could visit me sometime? If you want that is," she said hurriedly. "My parents wouldn't know."

Ginny hesitated and then she nodded. "Of course, I would love to."

"And you could tell me about your world and stuff," Sophie continued as she began walking back to her parents.

Ginny was about to turn away when –

"Oh, and Ginny?"

Ginny looked at her expectantly.

"Today is Sunday."

Sophie ran back to her parents who held her tighter this time and lead her away.

Ginny smiled to herself.

- - - - - - -

Hermione burst through Ron's office door, ignoring his harassed looking secretary. Ron looked up in surprise, and raised his eyebrows at her dishevelled appearance.

"Ron, you won't believe this!" Hermione began with excitement.

Ron smiled at Hermione bemusedly and motioned for her to sit down. "It's okay, Dora, you can go. It's just my wife."

His secretary nodded and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

"Ron, you won't believe what I just found out," Hermione repeated, ignoring his invitations to sit down. She thrust a bunch of parchment onto his desk and spread them all out, pointing at their bottom left-hand corner with impatience. She was almost bouncing with glee.

Ron looked at where she was pointing carefully. "Dumbledore's signature?" he questioned. "We know that." The parchment had written on it all the information of the spell they had performed on the rings, and the spell itself. They had been over all of it dozens of times but it never gave too much other information.

"Look at it again," Hermione commanded, unable to contain her excitement.

Ron blinked. "Is this a trick question?"

"It doesn't say Albus Dumbledore, like we assumed," Hermione said, tapping it. "We just assumed!"

"The Dumbledore is clear though," Ron argued.

Hermione smiled and shook her head. "Yes, the Dumbledore part is. Look at the first name. We thought it was just Dumbledore's first two names but it actually says Albus and-"

Ron looked carefully and then he started. It didn't say Albus, it clearly said –

"Albus and Aberforth Dumbledore…" Ron said in wonder.

"Ron, do you know what this means? This is, this is amazing – it's incredible!"

"The spell wasn't just created by Dumbledore, it was also created by his brother." Ron sat back in his seat and grinned appreciatively at Hermione. "I always knew you were smart."

She smiled at him and gathered up the parchment.

"And I can bet Aberforth could answer all our questions about the spell – about Harry even!"

"He could tell us if Harry was alive!"

Hermione nodded "The only problem is, nobody knows where Aberforth is," she added sheepishly.

Ron sunk back into his seat, deflated. "Oh." Then he brightened. "Percy has access to all the wand registrations, at least, he used to! And they never change the passwords here so he probably could still get it for us and find Aberforth!"

Hermione looked at the door. "That's illegal," she whispered. But she looked thrilled by this. "Would Percy do that?"

Ron hit his desk. "It's for Harry! If he doesn't, I'll kill him and then he will."

"Okay, let's go ask him now," Hermione said.

- - - - - - -

Ginny sat in front of her writing desk wearing a large frown. Time was passing quickly and yet she still hadn't even begun her book. And now she had been sitting for an hour trying to write and absolutely nothing was coming to her. Instead, images of Harry, Eric, Sophie, Chelsea, Percy and other people were flicking through her head distracting her. As a result, she couldn't even start planning a draft – couldn't even draft a draft.

She tried thinking of the introduction but the most productive thing that happened was that her quill broke. Sighing, she went to go and make herself another cup of tea. Eric was out, probably in town or in London, she didn't even want to know. As she was waiting for her tea to boil, she scavenged around for another quill. She searched in the living room and her own bedroom in vain. She found none.

There was only one other room in the house that could have a quill and Eric had expressively asked her not to go in it.

She stood outside the closed door to Eric's office tentatively, biting her lip. He had asked her not to go in because it was important to him that nothing should be disturbed. Apparently he had lots of paperwork in there that was organised precisely so that he could get straight into it when he got home. But a quill was a quill and Ginny needed one so she slowly turned the knob.

Locked.

She thought for a second. Well, it couldn't be magically locked and Fred and George had taught her how easy it was to pick a simple Muggle lock. So she went and got one of her hairpins and two seconds later she unlocked the door. Her jaw dropped in shock as she opened the door and stepped inside. She glanced around and blinked rapidly.

Covering the walls were newspaper articles that all sorts of headlines, mainly to do with her family and Harry Potter. There were many on her. Ginny took sharp, staccato breaths and kept looking around. On the far side of the room were a couple of potions bubbling away ominously. The newspaper articles had parts circled in them and Ginny glanced closely at a few of them. Some of them were talking about the book she was supposed to be writing, some of them about her work or some about her relationship with Harry and what her family was doing. She backed up silently, not wanting to know anymore. She kept backing up to the door and then she banged smack into somebody behind her.

She screamed and whipped around, to see Eric's furious face.

"What are you doing?" he asked with slow, deliberate fury.

"I – I needed a quill," Ginny stammered. "What – what is all this?" she asked with a bit more force. "Why is it here?"

"I told you never to come in here!" Eric shouted.

Ginny stared at him for a second and then ran past him and out the back door. She looked back; he wasn't following.

She did the only thing she could think of – she went to Harry's.

She knocked on his door lightly. There was no answer. She knocked again, louder this time, and heard something banging and somebody moving inside quickly. Ginny frowned and opened the door, peering with difficulty into the dim room.

"Harry?"

He was by the window again, sitting with his back to her and watching the ocean. Ginny came and stood behind him and looked out the window too.

"Is this all you do?" She didn't say it with deliberate pity but it seemed to come out that way.

Harry managed a stiff nod.

Ginny sat down next to him and folded her shaking hands on her lap. The amount of dust in the room made her cough a couple of times. She felt like she was in a story, an old tale; the cottage was just so… unlike the world outside of it. It seemed to Ginny that the inside of the cottage was frozen in time, oblivious to the real world. Harry was frozen in time.

"Where's your husband?" Harry asked a couple of minutes later.

Ginny shrugged.

"You never seem to know," Harry commented, looking at her for the first time. But rather than waiting for her answer, he seemed to be looking for one in her eyes. Whatever he did or didn't find, heturned away; appearingdisappointed.

Then Ginny saw it, what she had suspected for ages now. He had forgotten something, forgotten to cast the glamour he'd had since she had first seen him. It was only a bit, but when the light hit his face as he turned away, she saw it. Ginny felt her breath catch in her throat and she stifled a gasp. Like lightening, she reached out and snatched his wand from the windowsill.

"Finite Incantatem," she whispered, waving his wand at his face. She didn't care that she had broken the promise that was the foundation for her book; that she had broken the vow she had spent so long working towards because she had seen something for a split second thatterrified her.

Harry looked scared, but he didn't move, only watched her face as she watched the glamour fall away from his face. It was terrible; she thought he had looked bad before, he looked awful. He was gaunt and pale, his eyes hollow and there was only a pale light in those dull green eyes. He was skinny, too skinny; he wasn't healthy. He resembled a skeleton.

"Oh Harry. . ." she said softly, tears coming to her eyes.

Harry looked away, he knew it was about time she learned, but it was hard all the same. Every time she saw him she would look at him with that pitying gaze. He hated it, but there was nothing he could do. "Stop it," he said unconvincingly, his voice breaking as he stared resolutely out the window at the ocean.

"Why? Why didn't you get help?" she asked, running her hand through her hair and looking about wildly. "_Why_?"

"You don't get it Gin," Harry snapped, whirling around and staring at her intently. "I _can't _get help, there is no help. I. . ."

"It's because you're not sleeping, also because you're not eating, but mainly because you're not sleeping. Why Harry? You should have asked me for a sleeping Potion," Ginny whispered, hurting.

Harry laughed bitterly. "You think I haven't tried that? You think I haven tried everything I possibly could? There is nothing I can do, _nothing_."

"There has to be something Harry, look at yourself. You're wasting away, you're dying. You can't live like this," Ginny said helplessly, wringing her hands.

"And what, you also think I don't know that?" Harry yelled, standing up.

"If you slept or rested, you would know."

"I can't sleep Ginny. I haven't slept in properly in months, only short naps that leave me feeling even more tired. But there is a reason, I'll give you that. You of course want to know why I never came home?"

"Yes. . . I thought you were never going to tell me, though. But then I thought it was because of. . . because of this." Ginny said meekly. She had meant to say because of him looking like he did but for some reason she hadn't.

Harry kicked the table and gave a tortured look around the room; she could tell he was close to crying himself. "The memories Gin, all the memories."

Ginny remained silent, knowing it was the only way he would go on.

"You think that the reason I didn't go home after killing Voldemort was because I didn't want people seeing me look like this, didn't you?" Harry asked, his voice was low and upset. Ginny nodded numbly, but didn't speak. It had been a shallow decision, yes; Harry had never cared about his looks.

"Do you know how long I've spent wanting to go home? To see the people I called family, to be part of the wizarding world again? Every single moment of every single day, of every month, of every year. Do you know why? Because I had every moment, because I never slept."

"But. . . why not?" Ginny whispered, her heart aching for him. Harry raised an eyebrow and pointed at her wand.

"Use the spell again, but point it at my scar."

Ginny took a deep breath, what did his scar have to do with it? "Finite Incantatem," she muttered softly, levelling the wand directly at his scar.

Harry didn't even flinch as the scar disappeared instantly, without any trouble; like it had never been there. His pale forehead was oddly blank now, naked almost.

"Whe. . . where is it?" Ginny asked, her voice deadly quiet. Harry gave another one of those harsh, bitter laughs he gave so often now, with no trace of a smile or humour.

"Gone. Has been ever since – ever since… you know. I only cast a glamour on it so you didn't ask questions," Harry replied, sitting back in his chair. He was staring at her intensely.

"That's not all. . . th-there's another reason," Ginny began, now beginning to be scared as well as upset.

"The scar isn't even a reason, it's part of _the_ reason." Harry replied shortly, not looking at her anymore. A silence fell, oddly enough; it felt like a silence between friends. Something that Ginny didn't really feel she was with Harry, as much as she'd like to, he wasn't letting her in. She waited for him to continue.

"Every waking moment, every time my eyes are open or even shut, every time I speak, every time I watch you, every moment I breathe I have the memories. They haunt me, never leave me alone. I can see them as clearly as if they are happening right now."

"Memories of what?" Ginny asked, her voice low. She heard a wave boom against the cliff and a parallel wave of foreboding swept over her.

He answered instantly, like he was glad to get it out. "Of everyone he ever killed, of everyone he ever tortured or hurt. Every detail, the look in their eyes, what they were wearing, the colour of their skin, the pain showing on their bodies. Like I've done it myself, like I'm the one who's killed them."

"But. . . _how_?" Ginny asked him, heart beating quickly. She knew who the 'he' was, only one person would have that as their own memories. She wished she could just hug him, let him sleep in her arms.

"The night I killed him, the night. . . he died I. . . he died but. ." Ginny nodded, urging him to go on. He obviously needed to talk about it, besides, no one knew about the night Voldemort died, no one had been there to witness it. Only Harry, who had been presumed dead too.

"When he fell after I killed him, he didn't hit the ground. He evaporated, like into smoke; green smoke. I didn't know what to do, I was to tired to think properly, just stood there looking at it. Then it. . . it gathered together and came straight at me, or rather, my scar." Harry sucked in a huge breath, gripping his seat so hard his knuckles were white. "It hurt Gin, it hurt so badly. The smoke poured into my scar and it hurt so much I fainted and then, when I woke up I. . ."

"Yes..." Ginny urged him. She had come forward off the couch and was kneeling in front of him, her hand reached for his and she tried to warm it, looking into his eyes urgently.

"All his memories Gin, he died, but the memories didn't. They lived on in me. A part of Voldemort is in me, haunting me and slowly weakening me. I couldn't go back because I would see family of all the people he had killed, and I would see their family being killed like I was the one doing it while I was talking to them. I couldn't live with that, I fled. I was no better than _him_."

"You – you sit here, day after day, night after night with – only these horrible memories to keep you company?" Ginny gaped at him. "But Harry, you _know_ you didn't do it. You're innocent of all those crimes You-Know-Who committed! We would all understand that. You – I mean – that's nothing."

"It's not just that…" Harry seemed hesitant. "It – there's something worse."

"What could be worse?"

"Rudolphus Lestrange. He – he… Ginny, don't you see? I'm a weapon. I'm something he can use. I'm hiding not only from myself but from him. Voldemort's _memories, _Gin. The Dark magic he used, potions… charms… curses. Do you know how Lestrange would kill for that knowledge – all that evil power at his calling? And I have it all. I know that he wants to restart this war, and he can do it in his favour by gaining Voldemort's knowledge of such powers. To stay here is to live just a little bit longer."

"But Harry, Lestrange could never kill you. You could just use that knowledge and kill him or find him first," Ginny argued, clinging to his arm.

Harry let out a yell of fury and shoved her arm off. Ginny fell backward onto the floor and stared up at him in fright.

"You don't know do you, Ginny? You're too innocent to realise what having Voldemort's memories means!" Harry shook his head and went to the window, laughing bitterly. "That's exactly what Voldemort would have wanted me to do. To _use _the powers he cursed me with. It was his last, brilliant move in the battle between us. Because no matter what, he won. He won because I would always live with the temptation of using his powers and his knowledge. I will always live with just a little seed of evilness inside me, planted knowingly by him. If I lived in normal society, who's to say that seed would never grow because of my temptation to use his powers? I would put people in danger." He laughed again, a manic tone in his laughter made Ginny shiver. "You all think you won the war. You haven't. Voldemort is in me." Harry said this last sentence as if it was some great, shameful burden he was finally admitting.

"Harry, you aren't You-Know-Who!" Ginny cried from her spot on the floor. She could feel tears in her eyes, and she could see tears in his eyes. "You would never willingly hurt somebody. I _know_ you're above temptation!"

"Here, I'm above temptation," Harry corrected. He tried so hard to let no emotion through in his voice but Ginny heard the resentment and deep ache in his voice. "Not near you." He breathed in and out heavily. "And not near anybody else, either."

Ginny let out a sob and she flung her arms about him, holding him tight. He had gone through so much; she was surprised he hadn't died from exhaustion or fear by now. He was so skinny to hold, like she was hugging a wooden post or something. And then he cried, the tears he had wanted to come out for so long now but just couldn't, the tears Ginny had given him as a gift by hearing his pain.

- - - - - - -

A couple of hours later, Ginny ambled slowly into the field Sophie had been talking about earlier. She wasn't really looking where she was going because her mind was so filled with confused thoughts about Harry. What he had told her scared her. It had scared her a lot. She couldn't forget the look Harry had given her when she had left, too. It had been a look that had dared her to pity him, but also begged her for empathy. And the thing that had scared her the most was simply that she couldn't stop herself from knocking on his door.

"Ginny! Ginny!"

Ginny looked up and smiled at Sophie waving madly at her from her spot under a tree. A few horses grazed peacefully nearby, enjoying the feel of the warm, late afternoon sunshine on their backs. Ginny smiled back and walked over to Sophie.

"You came!" Sophie was overjoyed. She tugged on Ginny's hand and pulled her down onto the plush, velvety grass under the tree. Sophie crossed her legs and stared at Ginny with adoring awe and respect. "Now can you tell me about Hogwarts?"

Ginny stared at one of the horses with a vague smile. She put away her worrying, confused thoughts in a mental box. She would worry about them all in time. "How do I begin?" she asked, playing with a blade of grass. Her smile brightened and faced Sophie. "How about my first day of school?"

And so she told her memories to the unwavering attention of Sophie, just glad to have the company of the refreshing innocence of a child.

- - - - - -

Mrs Weasley was just putting the finishing touches on her pie for dinner when the fireplace glowed bright green flames and Mr Weasley appeared looking tired but happy to be home.

"Hello, love," he said, putting down his wand and papers.

"Hi, love, you're just in time for dinner," Mrs Weasley said as she went past her husband to the table, kissing him quickly on the cheek.

"Just us?" Mr Weasley asked incredulously.

"Just us," she confirmed.

"Well, what a special occasion." Mr Weasley raised his eyebrows suddenly. "Er, what _is_ the occasion dear?"

"Can't a woman cook a meal for just her husband every once and a while?" Mrs Weasley said airily.

"Usually she has her reasons," said Mr Weasley, pouring two glasses of wine. His eyes were twinkling. "And that's a mighty big pie for two people."

"Well, the boys all cancelled on me tonight, they were doing various things," said Mrs Weasley. She took the pie of the bench and carried it over, sitting down across from her husband.

"I must say, they've all turned out quite well – not that I didn't expect that," she added brusquely. "But even Fred and George are successful business men. Although I knew from the beginning that joke shop would flourish."

"Interesting, Molly. What would you call the 'beginning?' I seem to recall you having rather strong doubts in this beginning," Mr Weasley said, grinning to himself as he took a piece of pie.

"Only because they were so young!" Mrs Weasley protested, but she, too, smiled. She sipped her wine slowly, a nostalgic look on her face.

"They are good boys," Mr Weasley agreed. "Ginny, too. I'm glad she's settled down after… Harry."

Mrs Weasley sighed. "Yes, yes I suppose she has. But I do worry sometimes, Arthur."

"She's a strong girl, Molly. Of course she'll never forget Harry but Eric is quite nice and suits her fine," Mr Weasley said gently.

"It's just – I know how she loved him, and well, if I had lost you at that age, I never would have recovered," Mrs Weasley said simply. "So I admire her."

Mr Weasley was pink. He coughed. "Yes, but I suppose, even our lives didn't turn out as planned. The number seven didn't even cross my mind when I thought about children," he joked, steering the conversation away from Harry and Ginny. Mrs Weasley always got very sentimental about that.

"Don't you tell me that, Arthur Weasley! You promised me over five children, remember?"

"I recall thinking you'd forget about that notion," Mr Weasley replied, taking another bite of pie and smiling over at his wife as his eyes twinkled.

She rolled her eyes and then got that nostalgic look again. "But after all these years, we're still together. Isn't that remarkable?"

He nodded slowly. "It is indeed."

"And we still have this house…" she said quietly, looking about the simple walls and furniture with love.

"I think," Mr Weasley said, "that the Burrow is indestructible."

"Yes." But now Mrs Weasley looked sad. "I've always wanted one of the children to have it – to live in it after us. But now, everyone wants to live closer to London, closer to other people. I mean, really, it doesn't make a difference what with Floo and Apparition but… I want somebody to live here after us. I always hoped Ginny and Harry-"

"Molly…" Mr Weasley said softly with warning.

She shook her head, as if shaking out her thoughts and took a sip of wine. "Sorry, dear."

There was a loud CRACK outside the kitchen door then in walked Fred and Angelina, laughing and talking loudly. Fred was still in his work robes and dumped a bunch of mysterious objects on the floor near the door.

"Excellent, dinner has been served," Fred said, floating two plates over to the table and kissing Mrs Weasley on the cheek.

"Fred! Angelina!" Mrs Weasley was looking flustered. "What are you two doing here?"

"Grub, mum. Why else?" Fred grinned and helped himself to some pie.

Angelina smiled hello and after asking how her mother and father in law were, also took a slice of pie.

"Oh, George is coming after closing the shop," Fred added between huge mouthfuls.

"George too! Why didn't you boys tell me sooner? This won't be enough! I thought nobody was going to be except your father and me tonight."

"Yeah, your cooking's better than Angelina's," Fred joked, fending off a blow from his wife.

The fireplace roared with green flames for the second time that evening and out stepped Bill, Fleur and their two young children; one after another.

"Hi, Mum, thought we'd pop round for dinner and offer you some free company."

"For free food," Mrs Weasley scoffed. She smiled and got up, however, and kissed her eldest son on the head as she passed him to start making another pie. Grandchildren were her weakness and perhaps Bill knew it.

"Don't worry about making another one, Mum. We'll make this spread around," Fred called.

"Fred, I've just gone from two people to nine people for dinner – I definitely need to worry about making another one since nobody saw fit to tell me," Mrs Weasley answered, busying herself with pans and knives.

"Actually, eleven," Bill said, hiding a grin. "I was talking to Ron earlier and he was going to come round with Hermione to talk with Dad about some things at the Ministry. Which, of course, means dinner."

Mrs Weasley shook her head, but secretly she was pleased all her family and its extended members liked her cooking. Mr Weasley still sat at the table, drinking his wine and looking around like he didn't know how so many people got here.

Just then George arrived along with Charlie, both laughing over something that had happened, apparently, at the joke shop.

"Cheers for dinner, Mum. I ran into Charlie buying dragon protection at Diagon Alley and told him to come. Knew you wouldn't mind." George flopped down on a chair and grabbed the remaining piece of pie.

Mr Weasley was chuckling. "Just remember I wanted to stop at five, Molly!" he called over the noise. Mrs Weasley ignored him.

Ron and Hermione had arrived by the time three new pies were cooked and had sat down. The noise was even louder despite the fact everyone was eating and almost none of them heard the knock at the back door. Nobody noticed that Ron and Hermione were especially distracted tonight. Both Ron and Hermione had agreed not to tell anybody about the ring spell just yet because they were both so unsure themselves.

"Come in!" Mrs Weasley called, wedged in because of the crowd of people and unable to answer the door.

The door opened and in walked Percy and behind him, Penelope. A silence fell so quickly it was like they had been put on mute. Percy had turned bright red and wasn't looking any of his brothers in the eye. The room was thick with tension.

"Percy!" Mrs Weasley exclaimed.

"Hello, mother," said Percy nervously, holding his head high. "I – I thought only you and dad were going to be home tonight. That's why I…" He didn't finish.

"Well, it was supposed to be just your father and me tonight," said Mrs Weasley a bit helplessly, looking around and the many faces. Her eyes travelled past Percy. "Oh you've brought a friend!"

Penelope stepped out from behind Percy. "Hello Mrs Weasley, Mr Weasley," she said warmly. She nodded and smiled at everyone else. "I'm so sorry; I hope we're not intruding on anything special."

"Of course not, dear. How nice to finally see you again, it's been so long. Come, both of you pull up a seat."

Percy looked like this was the last thing he wanted to do but he reluctantly followed Penelope over to the table. Still, there was a heavy silence. Percy looked uneasy at sitting next to George and sat down slowly, looking like he expected George to pull back his seat at the last moment.

"Splendid to see you, old Perce," said George, patting Percy on the back very hard so he spluttered and then quickly placing the butter dish right behind Percy's elbow.

"How's the job, dear chap? Still kissing Minister ass?" Fred questioned, looking innocent as he reached for some bread.

Percy glared at his brothers. "You both know very well I don't work for the Minister personally anymore." He sat back and his elbow hit the butter dish. Everybody snickered softly as Percy blushed again. Penelope, however, looked angry and didn't say anything.

Percy cleared his throat. "So, mother, how are the gnome repellent charms coming along?"

"As well as this house's Percy repellent charms," Fred muttered, grinning across the table at his twin. Angelina elbowed him in the side. Percy ignored the comment.

"Oh, terrible. I've got to find some new ones," Mrs Weasley replied, not hearing Fred.

"So Perce, I hear Gin and Eric are quite happy," commented Ron, knowing how much Percy hated Eric.

"Don't be silly, Ronald, how could you know that? Eric and Ginny can't contact anyone," Mrs Weasley said, attempting to bring peace. "So, are there any desert requests?" She asked cheerfully.

"Yeah, Percy would like some po-traitor pancakes," George said casually.

Percy stood up sharply.

"Percy!" Mrs Weasley said, looking upset.

"No, mother, I'll come back another time. It's easy to see I'm not wanted when the rest of my family are here." He turned on his heel and walked out the back door without even a goodbye.

"Now look what you've done," exclaimed Mrs Weasley furiously, glaring at her sons.

There was some chuckling and snickering and instead of following Percy, Penelope sat at the table, hands folded and looking upset. Slowly, everybody stopped talking and watched her. When Penelope had everyone's attention, she began to speak.

"How far are you all going to go in making your brother pay for his mistake?" she asked simply and quietly. "How long will it be before you give him back the respect and love he deserves from each of you? He made a bad mistake, yes. But how long ago was that now? Didn't he say sorry – finally? I'm sure you all know how hard it is for Percy Weasley to admit that he's wrong." She looked at them all with no anger, just disappointment. "How long does it take a family with such love, to forgive one of its own? I'm surprised it's been this long already."

She got up and gave Mrs Weasley a quick hug. "Thank you very much for dinner. I hope to stay longer next time." She nodded to everyone and then disappeared out the back door and then CRACK she was gone.

In her wake sat a very guilty family.


	7. A NeverEnding Cycle

**A/N – **_Chapter seven, it's finally out. Not far too go now. Just quickly, I'd like to extend a big thanks to all those people reviewing. Those reviews are what keep me writing stories. They truly ALL make me smile every time. So to all of you to take the time to say at least a couple of words: Thanks. Enjoy chapter seven and another big thanks to Nessa and Aniket_

**Ch 7 – A Never-Ending Cycle**

Ginny listened to the rhythmic beat of her feet stepping on the dirt path. She looked around, her eyes were wide open but she wasn't really seeing anything. Instead her thoughts swarmed like bees in her head, unrelenting and constant. Four months had already flown by, changing her life in one sweep. She looked at Harry now and saw the rest of her life. She would look into his vacant, lost green eyes and feel powerless at the emotion swelling inside of her.

It had taken her a while to come to terms with Harry's reasons for hiding. That he had Voldemort's power and memories was a terrible and yes, scary, thing, she felt no fear when she looked at him. Because she saw no red slits where his eyes should be, she felt no deep evil when she listened to him and she felt love, not fear and hatred when she thought of him. Lestrange may be looking for him, but he would never find Harry here of all places. No, these reasons didn't alarm her anymore. No matter what Harry believed, she knew he was no more capable of evil than the pieces of dust that covered every inch of his cottage.

As this revelation happened, her relationship with Eric was dying. She looked at his eyes, and the automatic thing happened. She felt no inclination to reach out and bring them back together. After his outburst, especially, they lived a methodical life. They got up, exchanged a few words – sometimes a helpless smile – and then she would pretend to write and he would say he was going into town. Lies. The truth? She would stare at a blank piece of paper and think about Harry – or often visit him – and he would use the Portkey to go to London.

Often these days she wondered what had made her marry Eric. It was dawning on her now she hadn't loved him. Possibly she had just wanted to live what she thought was normally, with a husband and a home and a job. Maybe it was wanting to put Harry behind her. Oddly, now he was right in front of her and she could see crystal clear what she felt. Mostly she would sit in silence with him and the electric emotion between them would sizzle and spark but they would never give in to it except maybe to brush longingly against each other.

There was no spark with Eric. Even when he apologised for yelling her that fateful day she went into his office, she had felt nothing but indifference.

"_You think I overreacted, don't you?"_

_Ginny shrugged. "Does it matter now?" was all she said. _

"_I – I – it's my personality when it comes to work. It changes."_

"_Your personality doesn't change, Eric. Don't give me that." Ginny looked at him head on, unblinking. _

"_If you think I'm doing magic, you're wrong – kind of."_

_Ginny sighed and looked away. "You're already going to London, does it really matter anymore?"_

"_It's something I was working on with your father. Very important, very secret, if you know what I mean. He wanted me to continue it here, away from prying eyes."_

"_My prying eyes?"_

"_Ginny, I just got a shock. It's very important to the Ministry. It's-"_

"_Funny – dad never mentioned it," Ginny interjected. _

"_It's a potion to poison Dementors." Eric said, staring at her. "It's absolutely vital for our survival against those creatures, Gin. How else can be beat them but to kill them? But the potion is also very difficult to make, and also very dangerous. You scared me, Gin, when I found you in there."_

"_So why was I scared?"_

"_Because, dammit, I overreacted, okay? Are you happy? I admit it!"_

"_That's not I wanted." Ginny leant back in her seat, wanting the conversation to stop. _

"_And the pictures," Eric began, sitting down next to her and placing his hand on hers. "The pictures of Lestrange are also something for your dad, I'm trying to figure out his next move, some way of capturing him. It sounds weird but I'm trying to get inside his mind to find out how he thinks."_

"_There's not a lot you can do living here," Ginny commented, staring at the wall. _

"_Ginny, I didn't want to tell you about all this, that's why I told you I was bored here. I couldn't tell you about my job but now that you've found out, I can tell you I needed the Portkey to keep working. You can understand that, can't you?" He stroked her palm softly, leaning close. _

_Ginny turned now to look at him. "I told you, it doesn't really matter if I understand or agree anymore." She stood up and looked down at him. "You can understand that, can't you?"_

_She walked away._

It wasn't like some momentous epiphany or an exact moment where her heart skipped a beat, she just knew that when the year was up, she wasn't going back to London with Eric. If Harry was going to stay here and refuse to be part of society, well then she would stay with him. She would be able to use magic again by that time and could visit her family whenever. She would just tell everyone that she became so attached to the town she wanted to live there forever.

Besides, she was teaching Sophie about magic now. That's where she was headed now; to the field where Sophie watched her family's horses every Sunday. It was hard, with no wands, but Ginny could tell her the words and history behind spells and charms or tell her about the plants. It wasn't as good as being at Hogwarts, but it was definitely better than not knowing anything. These lessons had become a blessing because they allowed her to forget about her personal life and impart all her knowledge of magic and the magical world on Sophie. Sophie's parents, were of course unrelenting in their decision not to send their daughter to Hogwarts so they, as a result, had no idea about these lessons.

Ginny reached the huge field and smiled as she saw Sophie running towards her and horses grazing in the peaceful background. She quickly put all her worries at the back of her mind and went to begin the lesson.

- - - - - - - -

"He must be dead."

"Ron, don't be so negative. Aberforth is related to Dumbledore, right? So of course he's going to be elusive and difficult to find. What did you think? That we would just casually look up records and get his address? Maybe the name of his owl? Or possibly even his favourite meal?"

"No!" Ron said indignantly, going red. "But I at least expected _a_ record – even you expected that, Hermione!"

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron and sat down in her office chair, going through the bunch of files they had filched from the Ministry's records.

"Well, at least Percy agreed to help," Ron muttered. "If he hadn't I would have killed him."

"After the way you treated him at dinner the other night you're lucky he did," Hermione said simply, scanning the files.

"What – Herm – the way – what – _I treated him_?" Ron spluttered, standing up. "He betrayed his own family and you're going on about how we're unfair to him! You're nuts!"

Hermione ignored him and kept scanning the papers, shaking her head. Ron reluctantly sat down, failing to get a rise out of her and grumbled quietly to himself. He was trying to convince himself though, Penelope's stern, disappointed talk to them all the other night had, whether he liked it or not, hit home. A slight pang of guilt accompanied his thoughts of Percy now.

"Penelope seems to have a good head," she said a few minutes later. Ron wondered if she knew what he had been thinking.

"Hmmm," was all he said.

Hermione looked up. "I hope you've thought about what she said, because I must say that I agree."

Ron opened his mouth in anger but Hermione kept talking.

"I'm not saying I support what Percy did, because you know I don't. But I do think it was a long time ago now, and I always find that the hardest – but the most important – people to forgive are your family. He's apologised, he's tried to be better and part of the family again but he can't because you're all stopping him. So I'm proud Penelope said that. If Percy likes someone like her, then it shows good sense."

She raised her eyebrows at Ron's dumbfounded and slightly guilty face and hid a smile by bending back over the papers. A few minutes later she gave a gasp of excitement and leant closer. Ron sat up straighter and looked expectant.

"Somewhere in Europe," she said triumphantly.

Ron deflated in his seat. "Oh great, so he's someplace where twenty-five percent of the population resides. I feel so encouraged."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "It's called a _start_, Ron."

He wisely chose not to reply.

Half an hour later she was shaking him awake, talking excitedly.

"Ron! Ron!"

"Wuzzamadder?" he asked groggily, trying to see properly.

"I'm going to Bulgaria!"

Now Ron was wide awake. "You found him?" he asked.

"Yes, I think I've got exactly where he is," Hermione replied, eyes shining.

"Well, when are we going?"

"I think I should just go, because I can say it's for work and then we won't get anyone's hopes up," Hermione said slowly.

"We'll say it's for vacation."

"I think it's better if you stay here," Hermione said firmly, looking at him. She took the ring they all shared off her finger and put it in Ron's hand. "I want you to know if it changes colour again. I know you hate to wear yours because it reminds you of him, but wear mine. I think the rings are really important in all this. And I think things are going to start happening, I don't know, it's just this weird gut feeling I have." She paused. "Last night, the ring went warm. It got so warm it woke me up. And I just knew suddenly Harry is alive somewhere."

Ron was looking shocked and more than a little doubtful.

"I know, I know, I sound delusional but sometimes I get this feeling and I've got it right now. Something's happening and I want you to be here."

Ron sighed and shrugged. "Yeah, okay then."

"Okay, well I'm going to go as soon as I can so fewer questions will be asked." She started packing up her things.

"Say, you should ask Aberforth why he never came to Dumbledore's funeral," Ron said suddenly.

Hermione nodded. "I plan on it."

She was just about to Apparate when something hit Ron like a ton of bricks.

"Hey!" he cried. "Isn't Bulgaria where Krum lives?"

Hermione just laughed as she twirled and Apparated into nothingness. _Some things never change_ she thought.

- - - - - - -

_Harry stared at the evaporating smoke on the ground, watching it transform into and emulate different shapes. He was weak from exhaustion and fear and pain._

_Voldemort. Dead. It couldn't be true. He refused to let the tiny tendril of hope sneak into his heart and head. But… there couldn't be any other explanation. There was the spot where Voldemort had slumped, his hands clutching where his heart would have been. Or maybe it was him grasping for the last shard of his maimed soul. _

_Harry stumbled suddenly and he dropped his wand as he fell to the ground with a thud that didn't reach his ears. Seconds ago, Voldemort's body had lain across the ground, several feet away from him and utterly still. Now all he was looking at was green smoke. He had thought it was disappearing but now he took a closer look, he saw that it was hovering a couple of inches above the ground. _

_Around him, the bleak, inky blackness of the night seemed to smother him with its sombre silence. He cast weary glances at the smoke as he knelt on the dirt, gathering his strength. He panted heavily, waiting for the next blow, the next agonizing curse or spell._

_But nothing came._

_Slowly, Harry rose to his feet, shaking from head to toe. Nobody knew where he was or what he was doing. Well, they could guess at what he was doing. But even he didn't know where he was right now. Voldemort had requested this place. And he, Harry, knew that ultimately – now that he had destroyed all of the Horcruxes – that he would win so he had agreed. But now where was he?_

_It happened just as his body was beginning to stop shaking. The smoke began to gather into a ball and Harry felt his fear come flying back to him as he stood frozen to his spot. _

_It was so quick he didn't even have time to blink. In the space of a heartbeat the smoke hit his head… no… not his head… his _scar. _Harry opened his mouth to scream but no sound came as his muscles locked and froze and he stood immobile and caught in a time warp of pain. His scar swallowed up the smoke and suddenly, painfully, thousands of horrible images and memories filled his head._

_He saw witches and wizards staring up at him with terror and revulsion, saw children screaming with blind fear at him. He felt anger and lust for power and greed and a desire to kill and hurt. He saw a little boy and girl screaming in pain as he tortured them, saw a witch writhing on the ground under the Cruciatus Curse. He saw an old man lying spread-eagled on a hard, wooden floor, he saw Death Eaters standing around him in a circle, their expressions a mixture of respect and fear. He saw Cedric Diggory, he saw his mother, begging and pleading, he saw his father lying on the ground and himself stepping over his body. He felt himself laughing with a sinister and sadistic delight as he murdered and tortured all he could. He felt the magic of the Dark Arts flow through his veins and he soaked himself in it. Then he saw a room, where Voldemort sat facing him with a triumphant sneer across his cruel mouth. _

"_You see, I still win, Harry Potter," he hissed. And then he stood up and glided over to him, still sneering. And he raked his hand over Harry's face and Harry screamed with pain… screamed and screamed and screamed. _

Harry woke up screaming. He stopped when he realised the nightmare was over and he was lying on his thin mattress in his cottage. Of all the memories he had gotten from Voldemort, his own from that night were the worst. Waking up after he had seen Voldemort in the little room, undoubtedly a memory Voldemort had especially made sure he would have, Harry found himself in the same clearing he had fought Voldemort and still night.

He had known then and there that the only way to make sure Voldemort didn't win was to kill himself. The instant he felt the knowledge of Dark Magic trickle into his subconscious he should have killed himself. But he had been too weak to take this last step of the deadly game he had played for so long with Voldemort. And Voldemort would have known that. He knew he would win – somehow.

Weak. He was pitiful because he wasn't strong enough to save others from himself. He just kept hoping that something would happen to get rid of the memories.

The night he ran away was also a clear, unforgettable memory. He wandered for miles along the countryside, barely able to see, think or breathe. He had only been half alive that night and searching for his death. He was consumed by the hatred and power of Voldemort and struggling to rise above it. He had discovered this town a few days later and collapsed in an abandoned cottage up on the hill. He had remained in the little town, called Segretia, ever since, living in isolation and fear of discovery by the Wizarding world. People in the town knew he was there, but they thought him strange and didn't come near him.

He grew accustomed to living alone, going hungry and reliving Voldemort's memories day after day after day. That was, until something much worse had happened. Harry looked out the window and sighed.

Ginny came back into his life.

- - - - - - - -

"No, Defence Against the Dark Arts isn't scary," Ginny replied with barely contained smile. "Especially not now, with Voldemort gone and no war."

"So you don't come face to face with these… Dark Arts?" Sophie asked hesitantly as she played with a blade of grass between her fingers.

"Well, my brother was once put under the Imperious Curse in class by his teacher, so I would say that's fairly face to face."

"What's that one again?"

"Where you are controlled completely by somebody else," answered Ginny, thinking how foreign it was to her that a witch wouldn't know the three Unforgivable Curses. Ginny sighed; Sophie would have a lot to catch up on – if her parents ever gave in.

"Do you miss your brother?" Sophie asked with sympathy, misinterpreting Ginny's sigh.

Ginny was about to say no when she thought maybe Sophie hadn't misinterpreted her at all. She did miss her family. As a matter of fact, she missed her magic and her home and having her mother still make dinner for her. She missed all of these things. Sometimes she thought the reason she wanted so much to teach Sophie about magic was because she didn't want to forget about it – or something silly like that. And that silly part of her was making it hard to write the book. But the book didn't even matter anymore. This trip had turned out to be more different than she could have ever expected. She decided a while ago to go along with it rather than fight it.

"I miss my world," Ginny said softly, pulling a face. She wondered if her family would care if she decided not to do the book. But she wouldn't go, because she couldn't let go of Harry for a second time. Her mind refused to go over Eric but she vaguely realised she no longer wanted to be married to him. But no, she made him a vow and a promise and she wouldn't break that without talking with him. But this trip, or experiment, has revealed how married life would have truly been with Eric. In the end, it was a good thing.

Bridging the gap. Yes, she had used Eric to bridge the gap left by Harry. Now Harry was back and her poor treatment of Eric was so very clear and she felt guilt stir within her.

"How long will your book take?"

"Hmmm… oh, I don't know, to be honest. It's not going well."

"Why?" Sophia asked with childlike bluntness.

"Because I don't really want to write it anymore," Ginny answered with a smile, although with equal bluntness.

She was about to resume her somewhat sketchy history of magic when she looked up across the field and gasped. Sophie, quickly looking up, gasped also and stood up. Sophie's parents were striding across the field, determination on their faces. Ginny sighed and stood up as well, preparing herself mentally for the argument in front of her.

Sophie looked scared, but the determination on her parents' faces mirrored her own and Ginny took a second to notice it.

There were no words for a few seconds, just stares. Then Sophie's mother said in a stone cold voice, "Come with us now." Sophie began to move but then stopped. She didn't say no but then she didn't go either, and Ginny took her cue from this.

"You can't block out her magic," she said, with as much politeness as she could muster. "You can't ignore it and hope it will go away. I know-"

"I know we can't ignore it, but after our experiences with magic, we certainly want to try," Sophie's mother interrupted. Sophie looked surprised and more than a little confused as she stared at her mother.

"What experiences with magic? You mean me – what have I done?"

"Your uncle – my brother – was killed many years ago in a terrible war in the magical world. Ever since then, I have never wanted to get involved again."

"What are you talking about? Uncle Ted wasn't a wizard!" Sophie protested.

"No, I had another brother. Tony. He was killed just less than twenty years ago. He was a wizard."

Something struck a chord in Ginny's memory but she couldn't recall what it was so she kept listening.

"I wanted to know nothing more about magic after that. My surviving brother – Ted, who wasn't magical either – thought differently, he soon after married a witch. That's why we never saw him after that – and then he died and I didn't know how to locate his wife, she just told me the news and disappeared. Then you were born and I soon realised that you – you were like Tony." There were tears in Sophie's mother's eyes. Her father looked just as upset.

Sophie looked like she was finding this all impossible to believe. "How come you never told me?" she asked in bewilderment.

"To protect you."

Ginny sighed. More often than not, the worst decisions made were the ones made to give protection. She found it one of the most irritating sentences ever used.

"You can't protect her from magic," she said with impatience. "If you shut out magic when you possess it yourself, it's the equivalent of shutting out happiness. I've just shut magic out of my life and I've never been more confused and helpless. It's made me question myself and everything I'm doing in my life right now, even big decisions I've made recently. It's not natural."

Ginny listened to herself speaking what she had been unable to say before and realised this is exactly what she needed.

"If you try to stop Sophie using magic, it's not going to help anyone. Using her magic, she can grow and discover herself – especially at Hogwarts. If you just make her stay here and never use her magic, you're ruining her for life. She'll never truly be happy just like a talented musician can never be happy without playing music, or a painter never painting. It goes against the natural ebb and flow of life and nobody, not even parents, can take that away from someone because it's not fair."

Ginny waited and then continued. "Don't – please don't do it to Sophie…"

She waited again, holding her breath. She carefully studied the faces of both adults and after a few minutes, she felt the warm glow of success when something melted in their expressions. She patted Sophie on the shoulder encouragingly and slowly walked home.

As she took each step closer, she realised just how much she missed her own family and just how true it was that shutting out magic had been one of the worst decisions she had ever made.

But then she took that back. Because the decision had led her back to Harry.

She reached home and discovered her home empty so she walked quickly over to Harry's cottage. She opened the door and slipped inside, letting some fresh air in with her. Closing the door, she was hit with the familiar musty smell.

He sat in the same place and in the same chair. She walked over and stood next to the window, leaning her head against the glass. She watched the ocean.

"More bruises," he commented with an unreadable expression. "I assume you don't know where these come from either?"

Ginny didn't even bother to cover them and make excuses. "I don't know anymore. I don't think about it and I don't look at them. It's better that way."

"It won't always be."

"Yes, but it scares me a little less than thinking up all the possibilities of why I have them."

Harry didn't say anything more but she could tell he was much less than satisfied about her reply.

"Do you ever want to see what's beyond it all?" she whispered a little while later, motioning towards the ocean.

When he didn't answer she looked down. His eyes reflected the vast body of water in front of them.

"More water," he said finally. "More emptiness."

"Some days I just want to swim past it all and never turn back. Towards the sunset," Ginny said, turning back.

He was looking a little better. Sometimes he was able to close his eyes while she sat with him, and she brought over plenty of food for him to eat. He looked healthier, with a lot more weight on him. The dead look in his eyes was gone, but it was replaced by longing and regret. She could only guess at what.

"Where's this going?" he asked suddenly.

Ginny frowned in confusion. "It was just a question."

"No, I mean this. Us. Right here." He sounded defeated.

"We're looking out the window," Ginny replied. But she knew what he meant.

"Don't play games, Ginny. Not anymore. I can't play the games now."

"Since when did we play games?" Ginny answered tightly. "Games are fun, games make me laugh and smile. They don't leave me feeling helpless and lost and like I'm walking in circles with you every time we talk!" She felt a tear and she furiously wiped it away.

"I don't want to be something to pass the time here, I don't want to break up your marriage, and be the bad guy."

"It's too late for that," Ginny said with a twisted smile. "My marriage is lying on the ground in little sharp pieces." Oddly, she didn't say that was a bad thing.

"And I don't want to be the fallback guy, something to distract you from that. If this keeps up, and then you leave, I won't be able to live." He was quiet but firm as he sat in his faded armchair. Ginny felt another tear fall and she didn't bother to wipe it away.

"Distract me?" She laughed long and hard until she could laugh anymore. In the end it was just a breathless gasping. Harry looked alarmed but didn't speak. "I dreamt of your face from the very moment you disappeared. You can never know that hunger and desperation I felt for you. You sit here feeling sorry for yourself with no thoughts about anyone else. I know things are tough for you, I _know_ you're in danger and that you're scared and lonely. But take your despair and put it somewhere else while you think about someone else. Take Hermione. You know those rings you three made during the war? She never takes hers off. She sleeps with it on, she showers and eats and works with it on. Sometimes I see her concentrating on it so fiercely that my heart aches for her. Ron can't let any male friend get close, like he's just waiting for you to return.

"You promised him that after the war you would go to a Cannons game with him. He hasn't been to one since you made that promise. He won't admit it but he's waiting for anything, any sort of sign. My mum refuses to remove your placemat from the table. She never lets even a speck of dust to touch it. Sometimes people will mention your name and the whole room goes silent. The plaque put on the front steps of Hogwarts says _To Harry Potter: He lived and died bravely so we could do the same in peace._ Every student who passes it gives a nod of recognition." She stared at him; challenging him. "How does that make you feel, Harry? How does that make _you_ feel?"

"Don't you think I'd rather be there? Do you think I want my best friends and people I love to feel like that? I don't have a bloody choice! I've got no choice!" His voice was raspy and hoarse. Ginny hadn't seen him so agitated the entire time she'd been here.

"I can't do this game with you! Yes, Ginny, it is a game. It's a game and you know it. We never say what we think or do what we mean. You're going away. You're leaving and I'm staying here. And it kills me because there are a thousand things I could have said that are now pointless. Because when you leave I'll be living with your ghost and that kills me every day."

"I'll stay!" Ginny cried. "I'll stay, I swear I'll stay. How can I leave now? How could I just walk away even when we don't say what we mean?"

"Because you have to. Because it looks suspicious and there's nothing for you here. You can't lead people here."

"They're not good reasons. Why? Give me one good reason."

"Because every single part of me wants you to stay," Harry said without missing a beat.

"And what? You get to decide? I want to stay with you but you don't want me to. Why do you get to choose?"

"Because it's a total waste of a precious life."

Ginny slammed her fist into the wall. "Which is exactly the same as you. A total waste of a life."

"How am I a waste? By staying here, I'm saving precious lives. If I went out there, I'd die. So it's no waste."

"By staying here, you're wasting the time you could be spending figuring out a solution. You're a hero to every witch and wizard out there, and have been ever since you were born. And you deserve to take back that honour."

"I'm not some stupid hero! Look at me, what hero lives in this squalor and calls it home? What hero can barely lift his wand because he's so weak? A hero? Me? I can't sleep or eat or even raise the courage to step outside my own door sometimes. I'm pathetic and you're going right now. Go."

He stood up and faced her; daring her to move. Ginny's heart was racing and she could see the thin layer of sweat on his chest. She met him with a blazing look and he looked back with just as much anger and love and fire. She was breathing so heavy and crying from fury and despair. She lashed out and hit his chest as hard as she could. He stepped back from the force, never taking his eyes off of hers.

"Do it. Do it because I'm not even hero – man – enough to tell the woman in front of me how much I need her."

She hit him again, and then a third time, sobbing and gritting her teeth. And then he grabbed her arms with a strength she didn't know he had in him and held them down. He stood with his face less than an inch away from hers and now she could see tears in his own eyes, too.

And then he kissed her with what she knew was all the strength he possessed. And she kissed him back, holding him so tight. They both fell to their knees and held each other so strongly that they couldn't breathe. And they clung and tasted and let the world melt and disappear around them. They held the magic of the moment for as long as they possibly could; for it could never be truly long enough.


	8. Something Coming Something Going

**A/N – **Yes, I know finally. I'm sorry. (I really do say this every posting don't I?) It's true what they say, the older you get the less time there seems to be. Plus, I didn't get the flu bloody twice in the past month so… I'm so glad it's warming up here though, I was so sick of winter. Anyway, enjoy the chapter. And remember, every day that passes is one day closer the seventh book! Thanks to Nessa and Aniket as well. Sede.

**Ch 8 – Something Coming Something Going**

She groggily opened her eyes and blinked several times. Alarm reached her senses and she sat up as quick as lightning. There was one single thought going through her mind.

_Who am I?_

She started breathing heavily, holding her head as if to squeeze the memory out. She cried out and started panting in fear, gripping the sides of the bed now. She was sweating… she was in a strange white room with nobody around her… she was lost… she was…

A name floated out of the darkness of her mind and she tried to grasp it. Gi-Gi…Ginny.

She exhaled slowly, holding on with all her strength to the images flicking through her mind. Ginny. She was Ginny.

First it had been small things; little things that did not matter. Forgetting to put the milk away or misplacing something were things one did normally, but she had been doing them more normally than often. Then it was forgetting parts of conversations or what day it was. These small things kept happening and when Ginny remembered forgetting them, so to speak, she was mystified.

Eric wandered into the room and said good morning before rifling through his drawers for something.

"I just forgot who I was for a second," Ginny said flatly, not looking at him.

He paused and turned to her slowly.

"What?"

"It was probably the scariest thing I've ever experienced." She looked at him now, matching him look for look. "And I don't know why it happened, which could be even more terrifying."

"Ginny… maybe…" Eric hesitated and sat down on the bed.

"Where are we going?" Ginny demanded, changing the subject abruptly. She turned around and faced him fully.

Confusion spread across his features and he tilted his head in question.

"We're going somewhere?"

"No, that's just it; we're not going anywhere, Eric. I had this big dream coming here and it included a number of wishes and fantasies that never ended up coming true. I imagined us growing closer and growing in love and trust and… and … I imagined writing this incredible story and meeting these fascinating Muggles and that this story would make me even more famous and respected and I would somehow become more mature through my experience."

"Things don't happen overnight, Gin," Eric said gently.

She clenched her teeth. "Don't make this a cliché conversation; I know you can feel it too. Things didn't turn out the way you wanted either, Eric."

"You couldn't be more right in that respect," Eric said in a strange tone.

"I met a witch. A little girl, who, in discovering her own magic and also her own character, helped me discover something about myself, I know now that to separate magic from my life is stupid. It's like taking away the essence of you. It's not something I ever expected to find here."

"I take it she's going to Hogwarts?"

Ginny nodded wearily. "Yes, but Eric that's not the point of this subject." She reached for his hand but it remained loose in her own. "We're not the same here, and when we go back, we're not going to be the same either," she whispered. "I've realised we made decisions too quickly and… and right now I want to know if we're standing on the same boat? Do you feel this too?"

Eric removed his hand and stared at her. "We fall in love, we get married and move away together. And then you _feel_ we made decision too quickly? No, I am not on the same boat, Ginny, I do not feel like that."

"I'm sor-"

"The whole time we've been here I've dealt with your mood swings, your disappearances and your distance and I didn't take it just to have you tell me we made _decisions too quickly._"

"Don't you get angry at me! Let's talk about _your _disappearances, _your_ mood swings! Don't get me started on how distant you are! You're a bloody different person here and I think you know it and right now you're blaming me for addressing it!" Ginny said furiously. "And I'm asking you Eric, where the hell do we go from here?"

"I can't answer that."

"So we won't talk about how distant we are?" Ginny questioned him.

"Not right now, Ginny."

"Not right now, Ginny. I'm too busy, Ginny. I'm going away for today, Ginny," she mimicked him. Her eyes were serious through and she squeezed the pillow as hard as she possibly could.

For a split second, she saw anger in his eyes, anger so strong it made her recoil in shock. But when he looked up at her it was gone – or maybe just controlled.

"I'm going away for today, Ginny," he said in the exact tone she had just said it. "I'll see you later." She heard the door slam and she screamed in frustration, throwing the pillow at the wall. She had already forgotten the thought that has crossed her mind a few minutes ago. _Why hadn't Eric seemed alarmed about her forgetting who she was?_

Later on she repeated the conversation to Harry at his cottage, wanting to know what he thought.

"I'd rather keep my opinion to myself," he said slowly, looking out of his lonely window.

"Why?"

"Because there are things that I might accidentally say and I cannot say them."

Ginny bit her lip. "Please tell me," she begged softly.

He frowned unhappily. "Don't make me say them, Ginny." But he looked at her longingly for a second and she felt a shiver travel down her spine. She drank the look in and bottled it. Eric never looked at her like that; like he would die if he couldn't look at her or touch her. But then he looked away and the moment melted.

She was silent for a second, not wanting to forget the feeling too fast. Then Harry spoke.

"If I tell you… that young couples always argue or get angry, I wouldn't be lying. Even living alone, I know that fact. Many work it all out, but many don't. It depends if you love him enough to work at it. But that option means I can't have you and right now I can't decide if that's a good or bad thing. I should say bad but I can't bring myself to say it. But then if I say leave him because he won't love you like …" he paused and took a deep breath. "If I say that it won't work out, you won't leave here and it's too important that you do."

"He won't love me like… what?" Ginny whispered, shifting closer. He hadn't said it yet, not once. Neither had she, but she had in her mind. Oh yes, she had definitely said it in her mind.

Harry met her eyes, silently pleading her not to make him say what was on the tip of his tongue. She searched his face and then her body sagged and she nodded, she wouldn't make him say it to her. She took his hand though, and held onto it as tightly as she could.

"I feel like I'm stuck in time," she said softly. "I can't describe it. I _always_ know what to do or say. I'm a person of action and plan but right now, here with you, I've got nothing but what's in front of me and I don't know what to do."

She waited for him to reply and when he didn't answer she looked at him.

Harry was staring at her leg. "Where are all those new bruises from?" he asked in a tightly controlled voice.

Ginny pulled her skirt over them and sighed. "I don't know."

Harry looked sceptical.

"If you think that it's Eric, you're sorely mistaken," she said coolly. "I would never stay with someone who hurt me."

Harry shrugged but his eyes were looking at the bruise on her arm now.

"I honestly don't know," admitted Ginny a few seconds later, her voice scared. "I – I try not to think about it. It scares me."

Harry didn't reply but looked worried.

"Maybe we could go away together," Ginny said timidly. Go to Europe or – or America or something." She didn't know where that idea had come from; it just sprang from her lips.

"America? What would we do there?"

"Be together?"

Harry looked at her with pity. "It's not so simple, Ginny. Why is it so hard for you to see things without the consequences. What about your family? A minute ago you still didn't know what to do about working things out with your husband and now you suggest we run away?"

Ginny stood up. "Dammit Harry, is it so hard to accept that – that I need you? I never stopped hoping – never stopped loving you! Yes, I loved Eric but since when has the heart or mind let us control our love to just one person? I always hoped but I did think you were gone. It's like when a friend or family member dies. You don't just stop loving them because they're not there! Loving a memory can be just as hard – if not harder – than loving someone who is alive!"

Harry turned away and didn't speak.

"Yes, that's right, do your thing where you turn away and ignore the issues. I – can't love you, but I do, Harry. The other day, you kissed me and you still haven't acknowledged it. Obviously you love me, too. You said you did." Everything was just so difficult with Harry she thought with frustration. "And you love me, right?"

He stood there; silent.

"Harry," her voice was pained. "You love me don't you?"

Again, he didn't move. He made a movement as if to turn towards her but something made him stop.

Ginny felt her body shudder inside and she let them cease before she walked to the door.

Then he spoke at last.

"There's so many – I … at night it's like I'm surrounded by shadows… I can't – I try –" He choked and clenched his fists. "I don't – I never know what's real – and what's not… If I'm not real or – I'm afraid to say I love you, Ginny, because it will be set in stone and we won't be able to turn back. But the harder I try to resist you the weaker I become."

Ginny went to him and took his hand, gently uncurling his fist. She looked at him, and seeing him broken made her feel something so unknown and bittersweet that her eyes watered and she couldn't see properly.

"I'm real," she whispered, holding his hand too tight. "I'm right here and I'm real."

- - - - - - -

Hermione threw another robe disparagingly on the bed, narrowly missing an incensed Ron.

"I'm not sure if it would be wiser to wear Muggle clothes or just go with the robes," she said to him absently.

"Aren't witches and wizards over in south and west Europe more casual about showing their magic?" Ron asked while he examined some of her dress robes with raised eyebrows.

"Oh… I don't know… yes. Yes, I think so," Hermione replied, digging further into her wardrobe. She flung out a skirt and it hit Ron square in the face.

"Hey!"

She ignored him and kept searching. Finally, she sighed and sat cross-legged on the floor.

"What if I'm wrong?" she asked him quietly. "What if- what if-" She waved her arms about in the air, not wanting to say it.

"Harry really is dead?" Ron finished helpfully.

"Well – yeah," Hermione said. She played with one of her old Hogwarts scarves, wrapping it around her wrist and staring at it wistfully. "I'm scared to hope and then just get disappointed."

Ron nodded in assent. The same thing was going through his mind. What if Aberforth Dumbledore could tell Hermione nothing? After all, it was highly possible the rings really were faulty or broken, despite how certain Hermione was they weren't. But unlike Hermione, Ron didn't plan on hoping. It would be too disappointing if their hunches were wrong.

"You still don't think he's alive?" Hermione asked, voicing his thoughts.

"No, I just, I'm different to you. You're scared to hope, but you do. I'm scared to hope so I don't." He laughed bitterly. "There's that small difference."

Hermione leant back against his legs. "It's okay to feel like that, Ron. But I know deep down you do hope Harry's alive, that's why you're letting me go." She tried to grin. "That's why you're letting me travel within the same country as Viktor."

Ron smiled as he stroked her hair vaguely.

"What did you tell your Department you were doing?"

"Just some research on the Time-Turners. There's a conference close to where I'm going about turning back time to make sure Voldemort was never born."

Ron guffawed. "That's the biggest joke I've ever heard," he declared. "How do they reckon that will work? I mean, he's dead _now_ for Merlin's sake! It's not worth it – not to mention it will literally stuff up life."

"Oh they'll never pass it," Hermione said lightly. "It is considered to be a joke here but…" she shrugged. "…Europeans."

Ron shook his head, still guffawing. He stopped smiling a second later.

"What would you do if Harry was alive?" he asked seriously.

Hermione thought for a minute. "I don't know. What would you do?"

"Kill him for not telling me and then play some Quidditch together," Ron said slowly.

Hermione smiled up at him. "That would be right," she said tartly. "Well… I guess… ultimately I would just… I wouldn't be able to speak. I'd cry of course," she added. "And the first question I would ask would be 'why?'"

"I can see the Headlines… 'The Boy Who Lived – Twice!" Ron said.

Hermione stared. "Ron, that would be the worst headline ever." She laughed at his hurt expression and got up. She threw on some plain clothes and then packed a bag with more clothes and a set of black robes.

"I wonder what Aberforth will be like," she thought aloud.

"Strange, obviously, if anything Dumbledore ever said was true." Ron circled his finger near his temple, emphasising his meaning.

"Hmmmm," was all Hermione said to this. She pursed her lips and surveyed the room. "Well I guess that's it." She looked at Ron and he stared back at her. She opened her mouth to say good-bye.

"Well, don't be a stranger now," Ron said with a very fake grin, before she could say it. Hermione felt some tears prick her eyes and she wiped them away quickly.

"Goodness me, we're being stupid," she said in a tight voice. "Don't know why we're being… so silly," she said.

"Yeah, I mean, it's just Harry," said Ron sarcastically.

Hermione pulled him into a hug, and they held on to each other tight. "I know, I know," she said, "I…" but she didn't know what to say.

"Please, don't be too long, I'll get jealous with all those smart European wizards around you," Ron teased as he rubbed her shoulders.

"It's not a holiday, Ron!" Hermione protested. She didn't let go of him and after a while he gently pried himself off of her.

"Time for you to go," he whispered.

"Suddenly I'm too nervous," Hermione replied softly. "Because – this is it."

Ron turned her around and handed her bag to her. "Good luck. I'll hold the fort here, okay?"

"Okay." She checked her bag to make sure she had all their notes on the spell gave him one last kiss before Apparating. He watched her face carefully, noticing the mixture of nervousness and hope warring on her features.

Then she was gone.

- - - - - - -

Sophie walked up the hill to Ginny's cottage, clutching the piece of parchment in her hand that had changed her life forever. She reached the top of the hill and surveyed her home town with mixed feelings. The rooftops glinted in the soft, late afternoon sun and she sighed because she knew she would miss it despite the excitement of Hogwarts. She had received her letter the other day and wanted to show Ginny.

She examined her palms, hoping to see the magic flickering in them. It was so wonderful to actually put a name to herself that wasn't 'uncommon', or 'weird' and 'abnormal.' No, she was a witch. She smiled then, enjoying the fact she would be seeing somewhere other than home for once. Segretia was a nice town, where everyone knew everyone and ties ran deep. But Sophie wanted something different from all of that and Ginny had handed it to her.

She turned her back on the town and continued on to Ginny's home. The little white cottage came into view and she went and knocked on the front door. She waited a few minutes and then knocked again, louder. After no reply she frowned because Ginny had said she would be home. Sophie heard a sound coming from around the side and so she went around to the left of the cottage, pushing through the hedges.

She frowned again… was that chanting she was hearing? She looked through one of the windows and saw an empty room.

"Ginny!" she called.

She stepped back and called her name again. "_Ginny!_"

She moved onto the next window and peered into it. She almost fell back in shock at what she saw. With an open mouth, she watched as Ginny's husband stood in a room covered in newspapers and potions. He was waving a wand about and chanting something aloud. Sophie watched with unblinking eyes and then she realised something even stranger.

He was _changing_. His nose was becoming more hooked and his hair darker. He became more hunched and skinny and grew a couple of inches. Slowly he turned and Sophie's heart turned to ice. She could only see half of his face but what she could see was a blank, manic expression.

She stood there frozen for five minutes and then she ran. She ran and tripped over one of the plants. She ran down the hill and down to the village, unable to process what she had seen, only able to run.

She had seen something that wasn't right, something she was sure Ginny didn't know about. But she had seen it and it scared her.

And unluckily for and unbeknownst to her, _he_ had seen her too.

- - - - - - -

Percy wiped his glasses on his robes unconsciously for the fifth time. He paced in front of the fireplace and fiddled with his fingers.

Family dinner.

The two words evoked fear in his deepest soul and a battering ram in his heart that wouldn't quit. He _loathed_ family dinners because every time the scenario was the same. He would arrive and Fred and George would "forget" to set his place. They would tease him or maybe they would ignore him for the whole time. Food would be flung at him from unknown sources and he would endure silence from the rest of the table apart from his mother.

Penelope kept encouraging him to go to these dinners. He was so glad to have found her again and felt a little more affection when he saw her face each time. She also kept reminding him how devastated Mrs Weasley would be if he stopped coming to dinner. She would cry and he would feel guilty and it all wouldn't be worth it.

Unbearable was the only word for these dinners and yet Percy wanted so much to mend the rift between him and his family. So far it was only healed between him and Mrs Weasley. It seemed like he would have to endure mortification at family dinners for as long as he lived. For goodness _sake_ he had apologised countless times! It was unreasonable.

Percy straightened up and jerked his head up and down. Yes, it was unreasonable and he was going to let them all know. Tonight. Now. He brushed off his robes and smoothed his hair. It was time to end all of this.

He threw the Floo into the fire and stepped in. "The Burrow!"

After a rush of fireplaces he stumbled into the kitchen. He waited for mocking laughter but none came so Percy stood up and brushed himself off for the second time. A clatter of silverware startled him and his heart sunk when he realised they had already started without him. He leant against the counter and kicked the floor in disappointment.

Well there was no point in joining them now. All attention would be focused on him and he could bet it would be unwelcome attention - especially from Fred and George.

Fred appeared in the doorway, holding the silverware. "Well?" he said gruffly. But it wasn't in an unkind tone.

Percy followed slowly and he stopped abruptly when he saw the kitchen table. All of his family was sitting around it, now that Fred had sat down. But there was one empty space. It was sitting there with a placemat and a cup of pumpkin juice; the chair pulled out and waiting to be sat on.

All faces were trying to look nonchalant but there was an embarrassed sort of apologetically happy mood that filled the room. He sat down quietly and put his napkin in his lap.

"Can I get you a plate?" several voices asked at once.

Percy merely nodded and there was silence until George spoke.

"We're going to need to enlarge this table because I'm sure Penelope will be eating here before long."

And Percy felt a small grin grow over his face as he realised who was responsible for this change of heart.

- - - - - - - -

Ginny awoke with a start. She could have sworn she just heard a door slam. She had to shake her head for a few seconds to get her thoughts straight. She'd had to do that a lot lately. She couldn't think straight after waking up. She looked over at the clock. Two-thirty a.m. She rolled over and looked at Eric, his back was to her and he was breathing evenly.

She lay awake and stared at the ceiling.

Eric had been weird this afternoon, well more weird than usual. He had been distracted and jumpy and once or twice she had caught him staring blankly at nothing but he had been seeing something else. She had asked him if Sophie had dropped by while she was out and he had blinked at her for a few seconds until she repeated the question. He had shaken his head slowly and then had turned away without another word.

A gentle patter of rain started on the roof and she listened to its gentle rhythm, closing her eyes. A far-off boom of thunder sounded and she snuggled deeper under the covers. The grass needed some rain she thought drowsily.

Another clap of thunder sounded again, this time mixed with something else.

Ginny's eyes flew open and she sat up. That had been a human scream. Somebody screamed again and there were yells this time to accompany it. Ginny leapt out of bed after this and ran to the door.

"What is it?" she heard Eric call after her but she didn't answer him.

She ran through the rain in her nightgown, panting heavily and slipping in the fresh mud. There were more screams now and lights were flicking on in the town. She wanted to call out something but what on earth would she call out? She tripped on a root and fell in the mud, sliding down a steep part of the hill. She was filthy and the rain was falling harder now, drenching her head and body.

She reached the base of the hill and ran down the stone path leading into the main street of the village. The noises were loud now, not distant. Ginny knew something was very wrong but her mind wouldn't explore the possibilities.

She stopped and tried to push her way past the gathering crowd, looking for the source of the screams. Almost everybody was in their pyjamas and nightclothes and looking half-asleep.

"Horrible, just horrible," Ginny heard someone say.

Finally the crowd parted and Ginny stopped dead.

She gasped and clapped her hand to her mouth. "No! No!" She fell and felt hands grab her before she hit the ground. She tried to free herself and crawl towards Sophie's dead body but people were holding her back.

"Let me go!" she sobbed as she reached a hand out to Sophie's lifeless form.

The young girl lay beneath the town statue on her stomach, a circle of blood around her and her neck twisted at an odd angle. Ginny dry-retched and put both her palms on the ground, letting the rainwater run over her hands. A hand tried to soothe her by patting her back and Ginny let them, closing her eyes and letting out a sound of pure despair. She shivered from the cold and clenched her fists with her eyes still closed.

But all she could see was Sophie's body.


	9. The Green Ring

**A/N – **Busy, busy, busy. 2nd last chapter. Guess I'm not feeling it anymore so I don't feel the magic. Nevertheless, I did make an effort so I hope it is enjoyed by all. Excuse the typos/errors. I've released my beta's from my service. (a favour by me haha, I'm not good to beta for because I'm so unreliable.)

**Ch 9 The Green Ring**

Grief is a funny thing sometimes. It make a person feel like they just want to be alone but once the door is closed and the source of human touch is gone, all that person wants is someone to listen or someone to talk at them or just for someone to hold them. Ginny felt that way right this moment. After crying for a week over Sophie and pushing not only Eric away but also Harry, all she wanted now was someone next to her.

She'd spoken to Sophie's parents yesterday. They had decided to move.

"But why?" Ginny asked.

"We'll just see her in every corner of our house," Sophie's mother replied sadly, clinging to her husband's arm.

"I already keep thinking I hear her voice," her husband admitted. He sighed. "Too many memories really. But thanks for everything you did with Sophie. She was so overjoyed these past few weeks because of you, even if we didn't completely like the reason."

Ginny wiped her eyes quickly. "Okay," she said hoarsely as she gripped the hand he offered her. "But I – I'm so sorry," she whispered.

She'd watched them walk away with tears in her eyes and Eric's hand on her shoulder. And the tears had comforted her more than his hand had.

Later she again tried to talk to him about everything.

"I can't – I don't want to be here anymore," she said slowly, drumming her fingertips on the table. Her eyes travelled over to the window and onto Harry's cottage, gleaming under the moonlight through the small kitchen window. "But I have to stay."

"I'm sure your book will start coming along nicely," Eric reassured her as he washed some plates. Ginny bit her lip; it wasn't because of her book that she had to stay here. She wisely chose not to reply with that though.

"How long have we been here now, Eric? Even you should know that this book isn't going to be written." She raised her hands and stared at them with frustration. "I can't write anything."

He sat down and reached for hands, holding them within his own. "So you're upset. I know. So it's hard to write. I know. But at the end of the day it doesn't matter. We've been here for nearly six months now. If we leave, fine, nobody will care about that. But how about we stick it out together?"

Ginny was silent for a second. "Why are you so eager to stay?" she questioned him, not moving her hands.

He paused for a split second. "Because – because I think you may surprise yourself."

She stared at him for a minute. "How come you're not asking me where I got this big bruise on my arm from?"

He removed his hands.

"I thought maybe you'd hit it on something, like on the night Sophie…" He didn't finish.

"Maybe."

"Probably."

"Do you ever find it hard speaking around me now?" Ginny asked.

He was puzzled. "No. Why?"

"Because it seems like we're silent because we're too embarrassed – or something- to say anything. Or maybe we're silent because there is nothing to say."

"Gin," Eric said gently, stroking her hair. "You're just tense and tired."

"Maybe… I feel like talking to my family." She looked up at him, brightening. Of course! "I know the thing was 'no contact' but I think… I know I need it."

Eric's hands tightened on her hair and she pulled away sharply. "Ouch!"

"Sorry, I just remembered. When I went there last they said they were going away for a bit, with it being close to the holidays and everything."

"My family… said that?"

"Yes, I'm fairly certain it was now they said they were going."

Ginny frowned. "Um… _all_ my family… said that?"

Eric nodded.

"Hmmm."

"Where were they going?"

"They're in… France."

"_France?_"

"Visiting Fleur's family."

"Oh."

Ginny frowned again. "I don't understand why they would go without me? I would have thought they would've waited until I got back in six months."

Eric shrugged. "I think her parents are getting old and she wants to see them as much as she can. This time she wanted everyone to come."

Ginny nodded and looked down. Something was up. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye as he casually sipped some coffee and read the paper. It struck her then that if it wasn't for Harry and possibly Sophie, she would have packed up and left this town and also Eric by now. Because it had all just been so pointless. She knew now what it was like for those young twenty-somethings who married too early and realised too late they married for lust not love. Or for something else – another misbelief – but not love.

"So… France." She looked at him straight now. "For how long?"

"I think Molly said a few weeks at most."

"Did they ask how I was?"

"Of course. Sent their love and good wishes."

"Any news?"

"None I can think of. Besides, you'll just get distracted if I tell you. It would be breaking your rules." He winked.

Ginny pulled a very tight smile.

"I'm going to go for a walk." She watched Eric get up.

"Where to?"

"Just down to the town. See some people."

"Want me to come?" she asked.

No.

"No, thanks. Just feel like a wander on my own."

How did she know he would?

"Okay. I'll make some dinner."

She leaned against the side of the house and watched him walk down the hill. He didn't look back, just shoved his hands in his pockets and kept walking. Walking over to Harry's cottage, she again wondered what to do about Eric. But the Harry opened the door and she moved away from Eric and onto the problems that Harry presented.

He opened the door and she walked in without a sound.

He shut it behind her. Without a sound.

She went and sat down on the hard wooden chair in front of the window.

He went and sat down on the arm chair in front of the window.

No words.

Just silence.

"I would like you to leave your husband."

Ginny shivered and put her hand over her bruise.

"Then what?" she asked.

More silence.

"Oh… you haven't got that far yet," she said tiredly. "And I'm sick of arguing. Every time Harry, every bloody time we do this we walk in circles. You say leave. I say why. You say now. I say where. You sa-"

"Okay," Harry interrupted. She stopped.

"I'm asking these questions Harry, and I'm sorry. I just need some answers."

Harry nodded as he absently drew circles in the dust with his foot. "I know. I just don't know what to do."

She leant across and gripped his hand, drawing it closer to her.

"Ginny until you came, I had surrendered to living this life. Now you want all these things I don't think I have the strength to give."

"But you do! You're Harry!" she whispered urgently. "Please let's do something. Let's go and just – and just…" She got off her chair and crouched on her knees in front of him.

For the first time he looked at her seriously. "Where?"

"Ah," Ginny sat back. "Now you're the one asking questions." She gave him a small, sweet smile that melted his heart. She reached down into her pocket and put something in his hand.

He opened his palm and his hand shook ever so slightly as he gazed at the ring he had given her long ago. He stared at it transfixed while memories poured back into his mind. He didn't want to tell her there wasn't even the slightest possibility of a normal life together. Or even a life together.

"I found it just before I moved here. I had hidden it so well that even I forgot where it was." She smiled a little sadly. "I wanted to forget you I suppose."

He nodded. "Yeah." He kept staring at it, wondering how different his life would be if this ring was on Ginny's finger and not Eric's ring. "Do you mind if…?" He slipped it onto his pinky finger.

Ginny could feel her eyes burning as she watched him put the ring on.

"No, please have it. It brings back too many memories for me, of the old life." She sighed and leant against the chair. "Reminds me of being young, all four of us and… just everything I wanted from life that now I really don't have."

"Like what?" Harry was confused. She seemed to have everything.

"Well, _you_ for starters. As a husband." She coloured quickly at this forward statement. "And – and," she continued quickly, "becoming an Auror and travelling the world. I never did that."

"Why didn't you become an Auror?"

"I failed," she said flatly.

"You?" Harry asked in disbelief. "But you're a great witch."

She shrugged. "Yeah, well, guess I didn't have what it takes."

Harry stared at her then looked away. "Hmmm, well… maybe."

He reached down and held both her hands. They sat like that for a long time in the fading sun, surrounded by the sun-illuminated dust. He looked at her, she was his Ginny – the one who found him. And even though he said he didn't want to be found, he was so glad that she had.

"Love you Ginny."

"Love you Harry."

- - - - - - -

Percy Weasley was not incredibly talented at being devious. Despite this fact, he was quickly – and nervously – making his way down a corridor in the Ministry of Magic towards a room that was completely off-limits to everyone except a few people. He heard voices and stiffened against the wall, thinking that he should have brought some sort of disguise or Invisibility Cloak. That might have looked more suspicious if he got caught though. The voices continued and grew fainter along the adjacent corridor and he relaxed – a bit.

He glanced at his watch. Twelve-fifteen. His father should be having his lunchbreak right at this very moment. Percy reached the heavy wooden door and slowly inserted the key he had stolen from the incompetent security guard earlier. The edge of the door glowed gold for a few seconds and he heard the locks shifting. Percy pushed down the old-fashioned doorhandle and stepped inside. He shut the door quietly behind him and hastily tried to smother his cough. It was _very _dusty.

He stared at the incredible amount of isles facing him, all labelled with letters and numbers. Files on every witch and wizard in Europe. He looked to the left, seeing that was the direction the alphabet went. Eric's last name was Greenweiser. G. Percy walked down the isles, searching for G. His footsteps unnerved him; making the only sound in the large room. He coughed again after inhaling more dust and paused and listened before continuing. It was becoming a long walk.

He spotted the first isle for G and walked slower.

"G-R… G-R… G-R…" he murmured softly to himself. He was getting a headache already staring at all the tiny letters in the dimlight. He pushed up his glasses when he found R and began skimming for Eric's file.

And skimmed…

And skimmed…

And skimmed.

Absolutely nothing. There was no file on Eric Greenweiser.

Percy frowned. That was impossible. Even witches and wizards not born in England had files. Just with some personal details. But no, absolutely nothing. And he knew it couldn't be missing or out of order because there was a spell on the door so nobody could remove them and a spell on the files so they were always in order. He scratched his head and sighed. Another dead end.

He was baffled when he exited the file room, locking it behind him. How could somebody not exist?

He was just starting to walk away when the back of his neck prickled and he heard a throat being cleared.

"I hope you have a very good explanation for being in a top security room, Perce."

Percy turned around slowly to see Arthur Weasley looking at him with his arms folded over his chest. He had never felt so alarmed by his father before. Percy went bright red and began to stammer.

"What reason could you have for going in there, Percy? Weren't you thinking about your _job_? Don't you realise how much trouble you could get into? That is every person's _private_ information!"

Percy took a deep breath.

"Dad, there is no file for Eric."

Mr Weasley raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"Eric. Ginny's husba-"

"I know ­_who_, Perce. Are you sure you were looking properly?"

Percy looked back at his father steadily. "I may not be a brilliant wizard but I can file excellently. There is no file on Eric Greenweiser. He does not exist."

There were shouts down the corridor and the security guard and various other Ministry officials came running towards them. Mr Weasley quickly slipped his hand into Percy's and took the key.

"Are you looking for this?" he asked seriously.

The guard nodded, he was red and sweating profusely. "Lost – lost…" he panted.

"Yes it must have been misplaced. I found it on the security desk on the third floor. We were just checking to make sure everything was in order in the room." Mr Weasley dropped the key into the guard's hand. "Please do keep a close eye on it. That is a very important key."

The security guard nodded with embarrassment and left with the officials.

"Thanks," Percy said, feeling sorry for the guard.

"Well, I was being truthful. He does need to keep a close eye on it if you could take it relatively easily. That's incompetence." Mr Weasley stared at his son sternly. "But that's enough, Percy. Leave it alone. I believe there will be an explanation for this. Possibly he changed names."

Percy shrugged, not wanting to admit that could be true. And he was also extremely grateful he had escaped getting into trouble so he didn't want to argue too much.

"I mean it," Mr Weasley added. "Let it go and trust Ginny's judgement."

Percy bit his lip with silent frustration as his father squeezed his shoulder and walked away.

There would be no letting go.

- - - - - - - - -

"Why are they so blind!" Percy exclaimed wearily at the ceiling as Penelope patted his shoulder. He had just come back from the Burrow fuming because nobody thought it was particularly significant that Eric's file was M.I.A.

"They just don't want to believe it, Perce. He's their son-in-law. He's family now."

"Yeah he's my brother-in-law but I'm not sitting around doing nothing." He stood up and began pacing. "I have _always_ been suspicious of him, and now the fact there is no record of his existence proves there is something weird."

Penelope hesitated.

"He really could have just changed his name and they have it on the old file."

"No, no it would have been updated." He clenched his fists. "But everyone's too distracted by Rudolphus Lestrange to care about Eric. I know there are Muggles being killed and bad things happening and that he's after Dad, but this is important too!"

"Have you asked to maybe just speak to Ginny? I know it's against her rules for her book but if you're so worried then maybe you could bend the rules."

Percy shook his head. "I suggested it but as you can imagine they didn't take the idea. They all fear Ginny's temper too much." He smiled ruefully. "Her temper was matched only by Harry Potter's. They almost complemented each other."

Penelope smiled sadly too. "It still so hard, after a year, to believe he's gone."

Percy nodded, still thinking of ways to get through to Ginny.

- - - - - - -

Hermione poured over the papers Aberforth Dumbledore had given her. She was freezing cold, despite being in the heated kitchen. She paused to rub her head and sat back on the wooden chair.

Aberforth Dumbledore was similar to his brother in that he was eccentric. Except of course, Dumbledore was eccentric in a noble way and Aberforth was eccentric in, well, a crazy way. He was incredibly kind and helpful. Unfortunately he seemed a bit stuck in the past. He believed the Comet 240 was the best broom out there. But when it came to the spell he had his brother had created and used on Harry, he knew a lot. Except for what Hermione needed to know. _Exactly what had happened the night Harry died?_

'_No body?' Aberforth questioned as he tapped his pipe._

_Hermione had shook her head. 'Nothing. No sign of You Know Who either. Ever.'_

'_Curious,' was all Aberforth had said._

Later that day he had gone into his files and gotten every piece of paper they had written on whilst creating that spell. According to Aberforth, there was no way that Harry could be dead if the stones in the rings all three of them had were still were coloured and not black.

'_But they never change colour! They're just green… all the time. Maybe you made a mistake?'_

_Aberforth had risen to his full height. 'Dumbledores do not make mistakes.'_

Hermione sighed and leant forward. She had been gone nearly a month now, and Ron's owls were getting impatient. She would give it another couple of days and then give up and go home. She bit her lip as she re-read some of the notes written by Albus Dumbledore's hand.

_rings_ _highly sensitive to Dark Magic… can be good/bad? person with ring in most danger will change colour of rings… 2 in dang?... will go same colour… red? Purple?... dark magic presence signified by green… black death of a ring holder. All rings go black… trouble with spell. _

Hermione frowned. She hadn't expected for Dumbledore to be an erratic note taker. They were giving her a terrible headache. She kept thinking the fact that green meant Dark Magic was important but that could just be the presence of Voldemort affecting it. Maybe he was just too powerful he froze the ring into remaining the same colour.

_Note: ring appears to backfire at given times… colour change? Significance…? … dire emergency's rings used as holder of information… a leak?... preventable if spell performed in certain way… information leak considered helpful in situations…_

Hermione was frowning more now. What on earth did he mean by 'information leak?' Maybe the ring had indicated to the enemy something. Maybe it was traceable? She got excited, maybe that's how Voldemort could find Harry so easily. Then she deflated. Harry had never fully mastered Occlumency so Voldemort had had a sense of his general whereabouts.

"Alberforth!" she called.

He appeared holding a old and bent birdcage with some sort of fluffy white creature that glowed. It was an owl… but it had… teeth? Tiny hooves? Hermione pursed her lips. It was very clear that Aberforth was doing some illegal cross-breeding. She didn't let it worry her too much though, figuring the rings out was more important.

"Um… what does he mean by 'information leak' in the rings?"

Aberforth came over to look at the frayed parchment, taking the creature with him. It growled at Hermione and she leaned away quickly.

"Ah yes, we had some issues with that. If you said the spell in a particular way, in however so many beats per minute or… second maybe?" He scratched his head and almost dropped the cage. The animal hissed.

"Yes?" Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Well then the ring would take information from the nearest person. It was this weird malfunction Albus and I couldn't figure out how to stop. Lucky we knew how to avoid however many beats it was. I think if it was done too fast… or not in sync perhaps?"

"In sync?"

"Well yes, the spell needs to be said in perfect harmony, of course," Aberforth said reprovingly.

Hermione thought back with unease about the situation of performing the spell. They were in a rush… hadn't Ron been nervous or something? He may have stammered even at one point.

"So this information leak," she asked, "I assume you mean a mental leak?"

"Well of course. Now I can't remember if it was knowledge or facts or just the closest person's memories…How odd."

"What happened to them?"

"They acquired new information of course!"

"No, the person losing the memories."

"Ah, yes of course." He nodded briefly. "They died."

"_What?_" Hermione sat back and groaned. Aberforth just kept failing to see the enormity of her questions. They were talking about _Harry Potter_ for Merlin's sake!

"Well, if one loses all their memories and knowledge, they cease to exist. It's much like the Dementor's Kiss, yes?"

The creature in the cage started to howl loudly. Hermione blinked at it and tried to block out the noise.

"What if there was nobody close to you?" she asked over the noise.

"Well then the ring would have no reason to start a memory leak? Because there wouldn't be an…" Aberforth leant over the parchment again. "…emergency. My brother and I tested this, actually. With a Niffler and a Thestral. The Thestral got nervous and we had connected it to a ring so suddenly it knew how to search out gold objects." He winked. "Very amusing to watch."

Hermione started to shake. Rudolphus Lestrange was seeking to follow in Voldemort's footsteps. To do that he would need Voldemort's vast and dangerous knowledge of the Dark Arts. What if… what if… Harry had gotten that knowledge because they hadn't performed the spell right because Ron had been stammering and they were rushing it?

She stood up and then stood down again. What if Lestrange had already gotten to Harry for that information? What if he had found him and was holding him hostage? She shook her head at herself. No, if Lestrange had that dangerous information he wouldn't be hiding out and doing unknown murders of Muggles. Besides, Harry would never give that away. He would just use that knowledge to kill Lestrange. But what if his wand had been taken by Lestrange? She shook her head again. No, aside from that, she knew that Harry would _never_ have used the Dark Arts.

"What are you shaking your head for?"

"Thinking…" she said absently.

The creature had stopped howling and was now glaring at her with beady little green eyes.

"Did the rings ever go green for you?"

Aberforth's eye twitched as he thought. "Let me think. Well, yes, with the Thestral and the Niflfler. We put the Niffler under the Imperius Curse-"

Hermione gasped. "You used an Unforgiveable on an animal?"

Aberforth met her gaze steadily; looking the most sane she had ever seen him. "Tough times, Miss. Tough times." He continued. "The Niffler was therefore perceived as a threat by the Thestral's ring, so it went green. The Niffler died but the poor Thestral was worse off. It's hard enough with your own memories and knowledge but with another's it's much worse. Poor animal was an outcast for acting so different from its herd and hid. The ring remained green."

Hermione stood up without a word, completely ashen-faced.

Harry's ring was green because Harry was in hiding. And for a very good reason.


	10. Endings

Ch 10

Ginny woke up with a painful start. She heard laughter; cold and vengeful laughter. Something was covering her eyes. She clawed at the cloth with her hands frantically, trying to discover where they laughter was coming from.

"Eric?" she whispered tentatively.

Something smashed into her ribcage and she doubled over in pain, falling off the bed. She gasped and tried to breath but the wind had been knocked out of her.

"Yes dear?"

She began screaming as she recognised the voice.

He ripped the blindfold off of her and grinned manically down at her.

She sobbed and tried to look away, clutching her ribs and struggling to breath. He took out his wand and she screamed again.

"No… Eric! Why do you have your- somebody help! Help!" She curled into a ball. "Somebody help."

"No help here, dear wife. Obliviate!"

Ginny went limp was vaguely aware of a floaty, relaxed feeling. She yawned and opened her eyes, wincing at the pain in her ribs. Was it morning already? Eric was staring down at her with a funny expression on his face. She blinked, startled. Then she realised she was on the floor.

"Oh, what am I doing on the floor?" She tried to get up and gasped at the pain.

"I came back and you were on the floor. You must have had a crazy dream to fall out of bed that hard."

Ginny closed her eyes and thought. "No, just a normal sleep."

"Oh."

Ginny watched him walk away. For some reason, she felt something like… fear… in her subconscious. She stared around the room, trying to fit everything into place. Her head felt like disorientated, like somebody had tilted her brain upside down and it was trying to orientate itself. She listened to Eric moving around in the kitchen and quietly slipped into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. It was irrational, but she felt a little… nervous.

She put the toilet lid down, making sure not to slam it and sat down. The fluffy blue towels on the rack hung innocently in front of her and she pulled one off and hugged it to her stomach. All of a sudden, Harry felt very far away. She winced again as she hugged the towel to tight and her ribcage throbbed. She didn't usually sleep funny.

Suddenly, Ginny realised the noise in the kitchen had ceased and the house was very still and quiet. She held her breath and clenched her fists into the towel.

1 second.

3 seconds.

She breathed out slowly.

Then the doorknob turned sharply and she muffled a yelp of fear.

"Ginny?"

Eric rattled the doorknob and knocked hard on the door.

She breathed in an out. "Just having a shower. What is it?"

"Why is the door locked?"

"Am I not allowed some privacy?" she said back. She bit her lip and waited.

Silence.

"Well, breakfast is ready when you're out," he said after a pause.

She didn't answer, just turned the shower on.

"Stupid…" she said aloud as the water washed over her.

Once she had finished and dried off, she went to the door and listened. Not a sound. She put her hand on the knob but didn't move it. Waiting.

No sound.

She shook her head and pushed the door open, letting the steam roll out around her and evapourate.

"Eric?" When he didn't answer she walked out into the kitchen and saw the note he had left under the fruit bowl.

_Gone to get some food and go for a walk._

_Back soon_.

She looked at the fruit salad he had made her and made the split-second decision to throw it down the sink.

- - - - - - - -

Percy Weasley was doing a double-take. He had just seen something that, to put it simply, did not make sense.

He had been walking along in Muggle London, on his way to the Ministry from having lunch with Penelope. He had stopped at a traffic light crossing and was waiting for the strange little green man to appear on the black pole when his eye had caught an ad for a missing person on the pole next to him. And it wasn't until he was halfway across the road that he realised what had been so odd about the ad.

He had recognised the person on it.

That was the second thing. Why would he recognise a missing Muggle?

By now, the red man was blinking furiously ahead of him and vehicles around him were beeping with rage. But Percy was walking backwards to where he had been waiting. He stared at the poster and blinked. And blinked again.

_Missing: Ben Johnson._

_Married, father of two. Birthmark on right shoulder. Aged 32._

And there was a picture. The thing was, the picture couldn't be of Ben Johnson, because it was clearly of Eric Greenweiser. Yet, there he was, Ben Johnson, father of three. Missing for a year and a half.

Less than one hour later, Percy was in a place he never thought he would visit. A Muggle library. Sporting some very baggy jeans and a shirt in an attempt to look like a Muggle, he hung around the front desk. He was hopelessly lost. Fortunately, an elderly librarian was giving him some pitying glances and she beckoned him over a minute later.

"Would like some help finding a book, dear?" she asked in a motherly tone.

"Actually, I'm looking for some newspaper headlines from over a year ago. Would you have any records available?" Percy said nervously, feeling like he stood out terribly.

She pursed her lips patiently. Obviously, she had wanted him to show him the joy of books. "Well, yes. Come with me."

She led him to a room off to the side, filled with strange box-like equipment.

"What exactly are you looking for?"

"Um, a missing person, please." He pulled out the items from his pocket, dropping a few Sickles and Knuts as he searched for the scrap of paper he had written on.

"Are you foreign?" the librarian asked.

"No, er, cousin of mine is," Percy lied quickly as he handed her the paper with the name of the man.

The librarian brightened. "Oh, names always make this easy. I can just search on the computer for you and it will find all the articles for me."

Percy nodded, not knowing exactly how the computer worked. She only took about five minutes and she was handing him some pieces of paper. "Tell your cousin he can come borrow books anytime with you," she said encouragingly.

Percy nodded enthusiastically. "I will." He watched her go and then looked down and began reading. About halfway down was where he found something interesting.

A neighbour was the last one to see Mr Johnson. At about 2 pm, Mrs McCabe alleges she saw a man knocking on the door of Mr Johnson's home. "I found it strange because he didn't seem the type to frequent or come calling on people in our neighbourhood. He had long, dark hair and sallow skin. He was very skinny – looked very unhealthy to me. Weirdest of all was that he was wearing a long black cloak. It was a bit ragged though," she says. The suspect is, according to various witnesses, tall, dark and middle-aged. If any one has anything more to add please contact…

Percy re-read the paragraph several times. Was it a long jump? Rudolphus Lestrange could fit the description. The 'long black cloak' sounded a lot like wizard's robes. He sat back; mystified. But why? What was the point?

Why was a man fitting Lestrange's description the last to see a missing person? And why was that missing person identical to Eric Greenweiser, his sister's husband?

Percy left the library without a backward glance, taking the papers with him.

- - - - - - - - -

After reading Eric's note, Ginny quickly went into the bedroom and put on some clothes. She hadn't really worn anything pretty since being here so she pulled out a little white summer dress, thinking Harry would like it.

She walked over to Harry's, deciding to go around the back in case Eric came back up the hill at that very moment. She felt silly for this morning. In her white dress and the open, beaming sunshine, things seemed a lot less ominous and threatening. She knocked softly on the door and half a minute later Harry opened it slowly. He looked tense but his gaze softened as it fell on her loose, damp hair in tendrils and the white dress. He drew her to him and she followed him inside.

Neither was aware of the person watching them in the shadows.

Ginny, once inside, sat down on the chair near the window and surveyed the room. "Did you clean it?" she asked as she sniffed the air. There wasn't the usual amount of dust that made it hard to breathe. It was then she noticed the box of possessions on the bed.

"You're leaving," she said flatly.

He met her gaze evenly. "Not until you do."

Ginny plucked at the hem on her dress nervously. "I'm not leaving, though," she countered.

He sat down across from her and nodded firmly. "I don't like you here on your own. And what's the point of staying here anyway if you're not going to write your book?"

Ginny stared at him and knew that he was right. "I don't want to leave you alone," she whispered. "I can't go back home knowing you're alone somewhere. How do I know you wouldn't hide from me?"

Harry hesitated.

Ginny crossed her arms. "See? I'm not going." She frowned. "And if you even tried to hide from me again I would hunt you down. I can't – I can't believe you would even think-" she stopped and looked frustrated.

"So you can do what Gin? Leave on frequent, mysterious trips? Endanger yourself? Live a double life with me as a secret on the side?" He stood up. "We would spend the whole time apart and wishing we were together!"

"No, that would be the case if you took off again. But I need to see you Harry." She tried pleading him with her eyes but he stared back hesitantly.

"What I want most is for you to be back with your family. I don't trust Eric… but you've known that from the beginning of all this."

Ginny bit her lip. "This morning…" She stopped.

"What?" he prompted.

"I don't know… I just felt scared for some reason with him. Just a bit nervous I guess. I think I had a bad dream or something…"

"You think?"

"Well, I can't remember." She closed her eyes and then opened them. "No."

Harry looked down at her. "Well if you-"

_But suddenly it was Eric was looking down at her as she trembled at his feet in fear. She could feel the places he had hit her._

Ginny gasped and leapt away from Harry, clutching her stomach in memory.

"What are doing?" Harry asked, remaining still. He held his hands up as if to say he had done nothing.

Ginny took deep breaths, her stomach hurting for real. "I just had… a flashback… of my dream, I guess." She made a weak attempt at a smile. "Some dream."

"More a nightmare it seems," Harry commented, still looking at her tensely.

She nodded wearily.

He came and stood close in front of her. "Listen Gin, I thought it was just me but if you feel uneasy around Eric too, then I really want you to leave. I promise I will somehow let you know where I am but I want you to go now."

It seemed crazy, but what he was saying suddenly seemed the right thing to do. "Eric has a Portkey," she offered. "He uses it to come and go because he got sick of doing nothing around here."

"Good. Go."

"What – now?" Ginny shook her head. "Eric's out, I should…" But she wasn't thinking about Eric. "Come with me."

"No, please go now. I just have a bad feeling."

She started to tremble. "But when will I see you again?"

He pulled a twisted sort of smile. "Tomorrow." She almost shuddered. Tomorrow meant never.

She laid her hands on his chest and felt his heart beating wildly. It didn't show on his face. "Please, Harry, don't pretend. When?"

He kissed her and she could sense the desperation. It was happening to quickly to be good-bye. This was so quick – she hadn't even thought – was she being stupid? But Harry was looking at her so seriously with that intense green gaze; she felt powerless. She shook her head again and tried to laugh.

"… this is ridiculous," she protested. "We could just stay here together and Eric could go back," she whispered against his lips. She could feel tears on her cheek but were they his or hers? Why was he crying if he was going to see her again? How had this all escalated so quickly?

"I love you," he whispered back. He said it like he needed to say it, like it would be his one chance ever and it scared her.

"I love you!" she said back, clinging to him. He was pushing her away, though.

"Just do it, Gin. Go now."

"What's wrong? What's going to happen?" He had told her a while ago that ever since that night he had killed Voldemort he had adopted some sort of sixth sense. If he said go now, he meant it for a reason. She stepped back so she could look at him. "You're not going to contact me, are you?" A minute ago, she hadn't understood that. But now, that one minute later, she somehow got it.

He looked undecided for a split second and Ginny felt her body sag. She nodded and tried not to let fresh tears fall.

"I just – I need to hear you say that you love me… one last time," Ginny whispered.

"I love you," he said instantly. "I love you. I love you," he repeated again and again, hugging her tightly.

"Please come back," she begged, shaking as he held her.

He didn't answer.

"I – I don't know what will happen or how – we can make it work… Eric is… but – but I want to." Ginny looked up at him. "Please, please come home."

"I'm already there," he said softly. "Just think of me and I'll be there in spirit. But I can't – I just can't come back, Ginny. It would kill me. And you – you already know Lestrange wants me. I can't risk that."

Ginny cried silently, trying to take a photograph of this moment. She knew as soon as she left he would leave here too, go somewhere else where she and nobody else could find him.

"I'll divorce Eric," she said quietly. "I'm never going to go on another date. We'll be together… but apart." She kept crying. "There will be no one else, Harry, no one else."

Harry nodded, not wanting to do that but knowing her mind was made up. He walked her to the door and opened it, trying to let no pain show on his face.

"And then maybe one day we'll –"

Harry shook his head. "Don't Ginny. Don't say things that will make it harder."

She felt him release her and she stepped back. Their eyes met and locked on each other. Then she turned and walked away. She looked back once, only to mouth something unknown. He raised his hand and then closed it, as if he were catching the words in his palm.

- - - - - - -

Ron closed his eyes and sunk into the bathtub with a blissful sigh. He had enjoyed the prefect bathrooms so much at Hogwarts that he'd persuaded Hermione to get one of their own. Though she'd sniffed at how indulgent it was, he hadn't heard her complain since the first time she – they – had used it. He sunk even further into the bubbly water and wondered when she was getting home.

He was just sinking off to a pleasant daydream when a large crack made him sit up in shock. He listened hard as water sopped over the sides. It had sounded like someone Apparating… or Disapparating? Hermione hadn't warned him that she was coming home. He frowned.

The door flung open and Ron yelled as Hermione stepped in with her robes in disarray. He stopped yelling immediately.

"Merlin, Hermione don't scare me like that!" he said as he sunk back into the water.

She didn't apologise. "Get out."

Ron tipped an imaginary hat. "Well, good morning to you too." He closed his eyes. "And no."

"No?" she said impatiently. "No what?"

"I'm not getting out. Even if you have come back, it's not polite to interrupt a man in his bath."

Hermione raised her eyebrow. "Oh, well I'm terribly sorry. I will go find out where Harry is on my own then." She shut the door behind her.

Ron heaved himself out of the bathtub in a second and ran to the door, flinging it open in much the same fashion as Hermione had one minute ago. He stood in the doorway and she stared at him, barely able to contain her excitement.

"I haven't told anyone yet. But he's alive, Ron. These notes by Dumbledore and Aberforth prove it!" she held them up in triumph.

Ron gaped at her speechlessly. Then he turned around, went into the bathroom and got a towel. Two seconds later he came back out and said, "Hermione I think you should sit down."

"Ron, we don't have time to waste," she said impatiently. "I know what's happened. I know why he's hiding but we have to find him to warn him." She looked at him seriously. "I'm not wrong, Ron. Please hurry up so we can find him."

Ron stuttered, looking confused. "Wh – hiding? Why? And what – why wouldn't he even let us know he's alive?"

"The ring," Hermione explained. "In a way, I guess that was his way because he could have destroyed it if he wanted and then it never would have gone green." She pushed Ron into the bedroom to try and get him to dress. Ron was still looking dumbfounded.

"I think we should contact Ginny," she said as he threw on some robes.

Ron frowned. "She would kill us! You know how important the book is."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "This is Harry Potter, Ron. I don't think she would kill us for letting her know he's alive. Besides, she might have an idea where he could have gone, seeing as he's not dead. Now, come on!"

- - - - - - -

Percy walked through Ginny's apartment; his eyes were alert but wary of Fred watching him silently.

"I can't see them," Percy announced after a few minutes of fruitless searching.

"I gathered that," Fred remarked, smirking at his older brother.

Percy glared at his brother's back. Fred had agreed to go to Ginny and Eric's home to make sure everything was normal. Percy was convinced he would find something, Fred; not so much.

"So now you can leave," continued Fred, crossing his arms.

"Okay." Percy walked reluctantly towards the door but stopped abruptly when he saw the crack in the wall. Of course they would be in there!

Fred sighed impatiently. "Now what are you doing? Look Perce, everything's good with you and the rest of us, why ruin that now chasing after Eric for no reason?"

Percy used his wand to open the hidden hiding place in the wall. Percy sighed; wrong. There lay two wands that belonged to Ginny and Eric – just as everyone but he had predicted.

"Satisfied? Now come on," Fred said.

"Just one minute, Fred," Percy replied tersely, furrowing his brows so hard his glasses dug into his nose. He lifted Eric's wand and muttered and incantation as he waved it in the air. Maybe there would be traces of something suspicious.

Nothing.

He looked wistfully at Ginny's wand, wishing she was home. He touched it gently and out of the blue it gave a loud squawk and turned into a rubber chicken.

Fred went still and Percy turned around slowly, the rubber chicken hanging limply in his hand.

"Ginny would never take her wand and cheat," Percy whispered. "If this is a fake wand, where is Ginny's real one?"

Fred didn't answer, just looked troubled.

"I don't like this," Percy said. "I'm going to go the Ministry and warn Dad. I think you should go back to the Burrow and tell everyone, preferably Ron and Hermione."

Fred nodded silently, looking at the rubber chicken with unease. Percy Disapparated with a loud crack and Fred prepared himself for doing the same. Just as he was about to do so, however, he heard another crack from the living room.

"Good Apparating, Perce," he called out sarcastically.

But he received no answer. Fred tensed and pulled out his wand.

"Crucio!" he heard a voice say and all of a sudden he was on the floor and the only thing he was aware of was the pain.

When it stopped he looked up and saw Eric grinning at him. Fred groaned and tried to get up. All he could think was that Ginny was in danger. Before he could move, the pain started again and he lost consciousness.

- - - - - - - -

Ginny walked quickly back to her cottage. She didn't look back at Harry's cottage. She reached her door and wiped her eyes quickly before shooting a glance down the hill to see if Eric was coming. Once inside she leant over the sink and cried harder. For the first time in her life, she had no idea what to do. Stay and be with Harry? Leave and go home – without Harry? She let herself cry, because she knew it would keep making the decision as something for later.

It would be unfair to just leave Eric without a word. As much as she knew she wanted Harry, hurting Eric by just leaving without a word would be so unreasonable. She would leave him, but she would tell him first.

She started crying again. What would she tell him her reasons were? Harry would be gone, leaving a trail of dust behind him. She really didn't know if he would hide from her. She did know she would go to the end of the earth to find him if he did. Then she started laughing because she was thinking about searching the earth for him when he was next door.

It was when she realised how silly it was to cry when he was just steps away that she stopped being hysterical and dried her eyes. She would go over there and talk sense to him. Before she could open the door however, she heard a sound.

Ginny let go of the doorknob and turned very slowly.

There was a sound coming from somewhere in the house. She listened and heard it again faintly. It was the same sound she had heard ages ago; somebody crying for help. She looked down and grabbed the wooden-handled umbrella leaning against the wall. Very silently, she tip-toed to the closed door of Eric's workroom and pressed her ear to the wood.

"Help..."

Ginny gasped and tried to twist the doorknob. Somebody was in their house! It was locked. She kicked the door, trying in vain to break it.

The voice stopped. Then it got louder.

"HELP."

Ginny took a step back. The door wasn't very thick… She looked at the handle of the umbrella and without thinking twice started bashing it into the door. She didn't believe the person crying for help would try to hurt her. But how long had they been in her house for Merlin's sake! She heard the wood start to splinter and kicked it again before resuming with the umbrella. A hole emerged big enough to put her hand through and she opened it from the inside.

Once again, she stared into the room Eric hid from her and tried not to feel queasy. There were so many newspaper clippings stuck to walls with scribbles on them. The room stunk and it was littered with empty potion bottles.

Then Ginny gasped. There was a wand on the bench. She went over to it slowly and picked it up with shaking hands. She recognised this wand; it was her own. She turned around; trying to not to retch. The photos of her family and Harry Potter stared back at her and she closed her eyes in revulsion. She had to leave.

"Somebody!"

Ginny screamed at how close the voice was. It came from the large cupboard to her left. Shaking and gripping her wand tightly, she walked over to the cupboard and took a deep breath. There was a sobbing noise coming from inside. She closed her eyes.

"Alohomora!"

The door clicked open and Ginny opened her eyes.

Crouching in terror before her was a man who looked very familiar.

It was Eric.

- - - - - - - -

"Dad, you don't understand! There is a block on the town where Ginny is! I can't get there," Percy pleaded.

Mr Weasley sat at his desk, trying to calm his son down.

"Percy, I've told you, there are commonly glitches with the system and the far-off towns are usually more affected by it. It's nothing unusual."

Percy paced in front of the desk. "I've tried Apparating, I've tried Floo and I've even tried making a Portkey – nothing will work! How is that not suspicious?"

"It's suspicious, yes, Perce. But maybe not in the way you think. That area is most likely just having a problem. It happens." He held up a hand before Percy argued. "I'm not going to ignore it and wait for it to stop, if that's what you think. There could be something wrong with Ginny so I will go now and talk with those who will know how to fix it. But you are not to Apparate Percy, I can't stress that enough. Do not be responsible for ruining Ginny's book. I will handle this and get back to you."

"Have you not listened to anything I've said? The block on Apparition, Eric looking like a missing Muggle…" Percy refused to be satiated.

"I will handle it, Percy."

"THERE IS A BLOCK SO WE CAN'T GET THERE!"

Mr Weasley flinched and looked extremely startled. "Now really-"

Percy took deep breaths. "She. Is. In. Trouble."

Mr Weasley stood up and looked angry and disappointed. "I will go now then. I'll contact you when it's fixed."

"Her wand is gone! There is a rubber wand there instead, hasn't Fred told you anything?" Percy yelled.

Mr Weasley sighed. "No, Fred did not tell me this," he said wearily. "But I will go ask for permission to do a search on its whereabouts."

"Well what has Fred told you then?"

"I haven't seen Fred today. Why was he with you?"

He exited his office and Percy was left standing alone. He hesitated and then pushed up his glasses. Where had Fred gone, if he hadn't gone to Mr Weasley? Percy had already been to the Burrow and nobody was there.

There were hurried footsteps in the hall and Percy looked up to see Ron and Hermione burst in looking dishevelled and red-faced.

"You're back," Percy said; his mind was still on Fred.

Hermione beamed. "Good news! You won't believe it, Percy. We have absolute reason to believe Harry is alive! We came to tell Mr Weasley."

Percy frowned, not in the mood for more theories on Harry Potter being somehow alive.

"Yeah, but apparently Rudolphus Lestrange is after him or something," Ron added, looking like he didn't quite know what to make of all this news.

Hermione nodded. "And he's probably after all of us in particular. I don't have a lot of time to explain but I need to talk with your dad about it. If Lestrange finds Harry first…" she didn't finish, just looked worried.

Ron sighed. "How do we find Harry, Hermione? The world is actually a big place," he added sarcastically.

Percy paused and then decided to go ahead with it. "Eric Greenweiser is Rudolphus Lestrange."

Ron snorted and Hermione raised an eyebrow.

Percy nodded. "I'm almost sure of it." He thrust the MISSING poster for Ben Johnson into Hermione's hands. "Tell me that is not the splitting image of Eric. And a man fitting Lestrange's description was last seen at this Ben's house. He's in hiding!"

"But why…" Hermione looked sick. "Why make such a huge lie? What does he want so bad to pose as somebody else?"

Percy looked grim and resolute. "He wants Harry."

"But nobody knows where Harry is!" Ron said.

Silence took over the room.

Percy took control. "You guys, go try and reason with Dad. I've got to break the Apparating block where Ginny is; I think Lestrange's put it up on purpose. Maybe it's been on from the beginning."

"A block?" Ron looked furious and then anxious. "What if Ginny's in trouble."

Percy nodded. "I'm going to find her. The problem is we don't have time. Wait, you guys – find Fred. He hasn't been seen since we discovered Ginny's wand missing from her apartment this morning. Something could have happened. Then go get Dad, and if nothing works, distract him from trying to find me." He paused. "Don't you think… that if we find Lestrange, we'll find Harry?"

They all looked at each other.

"Let's do it," Ron said.

- - - - - - - -

The man fell out of the cupboard and landed at Ginny's feet. She stopped screaming when she realised something: there was no way this could be Eric.

His hair was long and uneven and he had a long beard. He was as skinny as a rake and looked very sick. And he was crying uncontrollably. The only thing was, he was a living, sick twin of her husband.

Ginny kneeled down. "Who are you?" she whispered. He didn't answer; only seemed more terrified.

"I'm not… I won't hurt you. But who are you?" she said louder.

He grabbed the hem of her dress and clutched it desperately. "Help me," he begged. She looked down into his wide, scared eyes and felt a chill go through her.

"What's your name?" she whispered gently, prying his fingers away but patting his back. She grimaced at how easily she could feel his individual bones.

"Ben," he stuttered. "Ben Johnson."

"Are you-" Ginny paused at how ridiculous this would sound. "Are you related to my husband?"

But she had lost him. He had started crying again. She looked around helplessly. That's when she saw Eric in the doorway.

She froze.

He smiled at her and walked inside the room. Her mind went blank and she stood up and backed away. Ben Johnson kept crying. She looked at him and saw she had left her wand lying next to him. Eric saw that too.

He walked over and picked it up; Ginny was stuck to her spot, frozen in place by fear and shock.

Eric looked down at the man and whispered, "Filthy Muggle."

Then he looked at Ginny, smiled and lifted her wand. Ben Johnson looked up.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Ginny screamed and fell to her knees. She gazed at the man's dead spread-eagled body and then at Eric.

He turned slowly to face her.

- - - - - - - -

Percy walked quickly along the corridor, making sure not to make eye contact with anybody walking in the opposite direction. Trying to look casual he slowed his pace down and stared straight ahead. He knew that he wouldn't be let off so lightly by his father if he was caught in unauthorised areas a second time.

He turned left at a long, empty corridor and kept walking until it opened out into an office area. He walked up to the main desk, where a brunette witch was arguing in frustration with a man's head in the fireplace next to her desk. She only looked once at the papers Percy held up for her to look at. He held his breath until she nodded for him to go ahead, before resuming her argument.

Percy could hardly believe he had gone this far without anybody questioning him. And it seemed it would stay that way. He walked over to the door marked Apparition Management and opened it with a straight face and a shaking hand. Once he had closed it behind him he breathed again.

The room was empty of people; just many, many unorganised papers to his left and a long table to his right. Behind the table on a raised platform was what he wanted. Percy walked over and studied the thousands of numbers flashing before him. People Apparating or Disapparating. To the left of that was a panel of more numbers, thought less of them. These were the Apparition blocks approved by the Ministry that had been put up. Below it was a glass case with a red square inside it. Percy lifted the case and then paused. What he was going to do would have serious repercussions; those blocks had been put up for a reason. But all he could think of was that Ginny was in trouble, or could be.

He pressed his wand to the red square and the red light promptly became green.

He expected a sound, or even Ministry officials to come running in. But nothing did. Percy pushed up his glasses and gripped his wand. Time to go.

- - - - - - - - - -

"I don't understand," Ron complained. "Why are we wasting time looking for Fred when we could be looking for Harry?" He plonked himself down on a chair in the kitchen of the Burrow.

"Well, for starters," Hermione said, "we have a slightly better idea of where Fred could than Harry. And Percy asked us," she added.

Ron raised his eyebrows. "Do we?" When she didn't answer he exclaimed, "We've been looking for Fred for hours now!"

"Don't shout," she said, frowning. "And yes, we at least know what country he's in." She stood up.

"Where are we going now?" Ron asked. "Can we get something to eat first?"

"We're going to Ginny's house, Percy said he last saw Fred there. And no, Ron, you can't eat first. As soon as we find Fred, we're going to go find Harry."

She Disapparated and Ron made a face at where she had been standing. Giving a longing glance at the food cupboard, he Disapparated too.

Ginny's house was very quiet. There was a fine layer of dust covering some objects, but other than that it was spotless. Hermione looked around slowly, looking for something out of place. It didn't even look like Percy and Fred had been here this morning it was so untouched. Ron went over to the cupboard and opened it with a hopeful face.

"Ron!" Hermione hissed at him.

"I'm hungry!" he protested. "And why are you lowering your voice?"

"Can't you feel it?"

Ron stopped. He did feel it. It was a kind of eerie quietness to the place. Still as the dead. Their eyes roamed over the room and Ron looked down the hallway. He stopped when his gaze fell on the doorway to the last room. Ginny's room. There was a lamp lying on the floor, half out of the doorway. He motioned to Hermione and her eyes went round and she pulled out her wand. Ron pulled his own out and they walked slowly down the corridor. On three, they jumped in front of the doorway with their wands raised.

There was nothing.

But there was a mess. A chair was turned over, the bedspread was lying in a crumpled heap on the ground and lamp they had seen was cracked down the middle.

"I'm sure Percy and Fred didn't leave it like this," Hermione whispered. She walked over to the other side of the room and looked behind the bed and screamed. She kept screaming until Ron grabbed her. Then he too saw what she did.

Fred was lying at an odd angle against the bed, his body was twisted and his eyes were rolled into the back of his head. There was a small trickle of blood coming out of his mouth. Hermione stopped screaming and went to his side.

"He's still alive!" she cried. She groaned and held his hand. "Who would do this?"

Ron was as white as a sheet as he stared down at his older brother. "Come on, we have to get him to St Mungo's. Then we have to make sure the rest of the family is all right."

"No, first we have to get Ginny."

Ron stared at Hermione. "After Fred, I meant," she said quickly.

- - - - - - - - -

Ginny clutched at the wall to help herself off, never taking her eyes off the man in front of her. He continued to grin at her, advancing ever so slowly. She felt her back press against the wall and the heavy realisation that there was nowhere to run now. She wanted to close her eyes but she was too scared to risk it.

"All this time?" she whispered with loathing.

"All this time." He surveyed her, stroking the wand… _her _wand.

She couldn't understand. This was Eric, her loving, til death do us part husband. Eric was now pointing a wand at her.

"Why?" she whispered again, as if more noise would push him over the edge.

"Because I knew you would lead me to what I wanted." He took a step closer. "And a small, personal vendetta against your father."

"What did you want?" Ginny asked, also wondering at the same time what her father had done to Eric.

Eric grinned. "Harry Potter."

Ginny stopped breathing.

"No, let's not play dumb," Eric said firmly, leaning against the bench and eyeing her.

"How… how could I lead you to Harry Potter?" Ginny said unsteadily. "I don't know where he is." Her hands felt the shelves along the cupboard behind her, desperately searching for a weapon. There wasn't even a window in the room that could provide an escape.

"I thought said," Eric shouted, "don't play dumb!" He shoved over a glass and Ginny jumped as it shattered all over the floor. She pressed against the cupboard harder, quickly realising there was nowhere to run.

"I don't know where he is!" Ginny cried. She was struck with fear at the fact that this was the truth. Harry had probably taken off by now, never to be found again.

"Oh, 'I don't know where he is…'" Eric mimicked her. He spat on the floor in front of her. "Then, the person you visit in the cottage alongside us is… nobody you know?"

Ginny looked at him in disgust and fear but held her head up high when she answered. "I don't think I know what you mean."

Eric leered. "Don't you?" He flicked his wand carelessly at her.

Someone was screaming. She was screaming on the ground in agony. She wanted to die. It was over as quick as it began.

"Maybe you remember now?"

Ginny groaned and tried to get up, staggering as she came to her feet. She shook her head. "Harry Potter is… has been missing for a long time now."

The agony went for longer this time. She couldn't breath; could barely move as it consumed her. When it stopped, she couldn't stand up.

"Who are you?" she whispered with loathing, wiping blood from her lip where she had bitten it.

"Funny you should ask that now. It's just in time for…" he trailed off and closed his eyes. "Ahhhh," he sighed with satisfaction.

Ginny watched in horror as he stepped back and stretched his arms. He was changing - transforming. His arms became longer, his body skinner and taller. The nose became hooked and stubble appeared around. He smiled, a hideous smile. He was dirty and unkempt, but it was his eyes that scared her the most. They were bottomless and black; expressionless holes. But then something scared her far more; she knew this man standing in front of her.

"No, no, no," she groaned as she slid herself backwards, away from him. And the pieces started to grind together painfully in her mind.

"It took me so long to figure out how to get close to the Weasley family," Rudolphus Lestrange said. "I wanted to crush every one of you, especially your fool of a father for killing my wife."

Ginny shuddered and clenched her teeth. She had slept next to him. She had kissed him. She had lived with him. All of these things she had done with a _murderer. _

"I plotted and I planned but nothing seemed to work," he continued, staring at her, all the while smiling that insinuating, horrible smile. "And then I read about you Ginevra Weasley. Broken-hearted from Harry Potter's death and trying heroically to make it on your own… or so everybody thought. But I knew that you were my ticket to revenge on a small and also a large scale."

"You hated my dad? That's why you did all of…" she cried and waved her arms around the room. "… this? You're insane."

Lestrange narrowed his lidded eyes. "Perhaps." He flicked his wand. "Crucio!" This time she thought she was going to lose conciousness. She could hear herself screaming but it was oddly muted. When it stopped, she lay curled up on the floor.

"Tell me where he is, I didn't play husband to have you lie on your side in pain."

"Why did you?" she whispered, refusing to let her voice waver.

"I needed Harry Potter. And I knew that you would slip up and let on where he was hiding, I just needed to get you to trust me. When you wanted to move here, I knew it was because this is where Harry was." He walked slowly closer. "By the way… I don't think you were a loyal wife," he whispered.

"Slip up?" Grinny tried to laugh but it came out as a groan. "I didn't even know he was alive until we came here!" She stopped, kicking herself mentally for giving him up.

Lestrange faltered for the first time. "Didn't you?" he asked suspiciously. "Strange coincidence then." He smiled again. "Well all the more well done on my part for being intuitive, yes?" His gaze grew cold again. "Now where is he? The charade is over."

Ginny managed to really laugh this time. Or was she crying? "Well if you've checked his house then you can see that he's long gone." She closed her eyes. "Long gone."

Suddenly there was a thud from somewhere in the house.

"Ginny? Ginny?" a voice loudly.

Ginny frowned. It sounded like…

Lestrange was quicker. "Silencio!" he whispered, pointing the wand at her, just as her mouth formed the word 'Percy!' He moved behind the door. Ginny heard her brother's footsteps come closer. She tried to scream in vain.

'Don't come in, don't come in,' she pleaded silently. But a second later, his figure framed the doorway. Their eyes locked, his in confusion, and hers in fear. Ginny pointed wordlessly behind him, opening and shutting her mouth in a silent scream. Percy ran over to her and she shook her head.

"Ginny! What - what - why are you on the floor?" He frowned. "You're bleeding!" He knelt down and patted her. "Where's Eric, Ginny? I know you're not going to believe me after everything but he's dangerous. We have to leave right now!" He tried to pull her up but she struggled against him, pointing at Lestrange behind him. She picked up a glass that had fallen on the ground and threw it at Eric. He waved his wand at it and it floated to the ground gently.

Percy had frowned when she threw the glass but now he stood up slowly in fear when he realised there was no sound of smashing glass. He felt the tip of the wand dig into his back and his eyes locked on Ginny's.

I'm sorry, he mouthed to her. She screamed now, the spell removed as Lestrange yelled "AVADA KEDAVRA!" Green light shot out of the wand as Ginny threw herself at Lestrange. She heard Percy's body fall as Lestrange shoved her to the ground. She turned around and saw the cupboard had toppled over as well because of the curse. It fell partly on Percy's leg but he didn't utter a word.

Ginny started convulsing as she crawled toward her brother. Lestrange strode over and grabbed her by her hair, jerking her head upwards. She gasped in pain. But the pain was nothing compared how she felt "Where is he?" he hissed in her ear.

She stopped struggling and looked him in the eye. "Even if I knew," she hissed back, "I would never tell you."

"CRUCIO!"

When she came to she was on her back and his foot was pressing into her stomach. She tried to breathe but could only manage one, wheezing gasp.

"I must say, it's a good thing you failed your Auror's exams otherwise I would have actually had to put up a fight." He sneered down at her coldly. She shuddered at the wild glint in his eyes and flicked her eyes over to Percy's deadly still form on the floor. She closed her eyes then.

"If I'd passed those exams… I wouldn't be _here_ right now!" she yelled. She choked on her rage and pain and tried to push him off her.

He only dug his heel into her stomach harder. "Ah see, that's why I made sure you failed the entry exams.

The small amount of remaining air in her lungs whooshed out. "What?" she croaked.

"Well it wouldn't do to have my wife become an Auror. You would have been prior to the investigation into a certain Death Eater called Rudolphus Lestrange." He emphasised his name by applying more pressure on her stomach. She felt her vision start to go black.

"What do you mean 'made sure I failed?'" she gasped out, almost unable to speak.

He removed his foot from her lungs momentarily. "I wrote a note as yourself saying you were declining the offer to train to be an Auror. They were very annoyed, it isn't often that such a young witch passes the exams." For a second, he looked almost surprised - even impressed. But then his mask of hatred took over again. "Then I got your letter of acceptance and changed it to a fail." He took his foot off altogether, waiting for her reaction.

She could have been an Auror. She could have lived her dream. She screamed and threw herself at Lestrange, tearing at his face and sobbing. He blasted her backwards with his wand and she hit the wall and slumped.

"Why do you want him so bad?" she whispered. But even as she asked, she already knew.

"_I have Voldemort's power. He wants to restart the war with it," Harry said, gazing at her._

"Oh, I think you know…" Lestrange answered, staring at her face closely. Ginny looked over at Percy.

"He's dead."

Ginny looked away. She knew, for her whole life, she would never forgive herself for not trusting Percy. The guilt would forever reside within her. But then, something made her look at him again.

And his hand twitched ever so slightly.

She took a sharp intake of breath. She didn't imagine it. Her eyes darted back to Lestrange. He was muttering to himself, looking like he was in another world. They darted back. Maybe it was the cupboard which had taken the full brunt of the curse, not Percy!

Quickly she turned back to Lestrange. Something had occurred to her. "The bruises?"

He snapped out of his day dream. He peered at her, sizing her up. "I wondered if you'd think about that." He shrugged. "You'll have to forgive me for wanting to amuse myself. Just to torture you and throw things at you while you screamed and then to be sleeping together two minutes later made the waiting worth it."

"You're sick," she said in a low, even voice. She shuddered and drew in her legs.

He threw back his head and laughed. "I am."

Ginny glanced over at Percy again. His hand had definitely moved. She started shifting her body slowly to block him from view as much as possible.

She turned back to Lestrange and a strange sense of victory overcame her. "Well, I don't know what you're going to do. Harry is gone. Your plan has failed." She held her head up and stared at him.

"Wait for him to come back."

Ginny laughed desperately. "We will be sitting here for the rest of our lives then. He's never coming back."

Anger and surprise registered on Lestrange's face. "What?" he asked.

"Why do you think I went over there today? It was to say good bye. I'm never going to see him again." She tried to laugh but could only cry at this truth.

"You're lying," said Lestrange, but he looked like he knew it was true.

"If I was lying," she yelled, "why do you think I'm crying like this? I have no hope left now."

This time he cursed her repeatedly without stopping. It must have gone on for hours. It felt like it. She could barely think or see.

"TELL ME!" he screamed in her face, the whites of his eyes glinting dangerously in the dim light. She mustered all the strength she had left and spat in his face.

He let out a roar of fury and pulled her to her feet by her hair and shoved her against the wall, pushing his body against hers.

"You think I'll kill you right away? You think I'll give you the luxury of a quick death? Take one last look around before your sanity leaves you." He shoved her against the wall again and her head smacked loudly on the wall. "Even now I want to ravish you," he whispered hotly in her ear and fumbled with her skirt.

She didn't have breath left to say or scream anything. She leant forward and sunk her teeth into his neck, tasting the coppery blood and retching. He yelled in agony and punched her straight in the face. She closed her eyes and stopped fighting. Please kill me she thought. Just kill me. My life was over when Harry left anyway. She felt her mind and soul begin to slip into the unknown.

But then there was nothing holding her up, nothing touching her at all. She sagged to her knees and tried to open her eyes. A dark figure loomed over her and she whimpered, holding her hands above her head.

But then she noticed the figure had green eyes.

She let herself fall into his arms, her strength completely gone. She cried openly as she looked up into Harry's face. She touched his cheek to make sure it was real. "You came back…" It was a whisper but his eyes flared as he heard the pain in her voice. He put his hands over her cuts like he was trying to heal them. She had to look away when she saw the tears in his own eyes because they were so powerfully guilty.

"No guilt," she murmured, on the edge of consciousness. "But Percy," she said, trying to get up. Harry stopped her and lay her down gently before going over to Percy.

"He's alive. Just not conscious!" he said. "We need to get him out of here."

And then Ginny heard another moan.

She screamed and crawled towards the door. "I thought he was dead!" She turned accusatory eyes at Harry who shook his head and looked at her intensely. She grabbed her wand lying on the floor.

"Av - Avad…" she stammered, only in a whisper.

"No!" Harry shouted. "We can't kill him like that. I know Voldemort put special protection on him. It'll only backfire!"

She didn't listen. She wanted the man in front of her dead.

"No, Ginny! Please! It will kill you! I've seen it in his memories!" she stopped and dropped the wand.

He carried Percy over to her. "You need to get out of the house, both of you."

She began to protest. "Now, Ginny," he commanded, keeping one eye on Lestrange's body. He was starting to move.

"But wh-" she cried. She couldn't even stand. She didn't know what was happening. What was he doing? She couldn't move. She lay still. The pain was unbearable.

Harry gripped her hand so tightly it hurt. He kissed her fiercely. "I love you. I love you, Ginny. I need you to get up and keep going. And I need you to hear me because I love you."

She felt the tears coursing down her face as she heaved herself to her feet and grabbed hold of the unconscious Percy. She had heard him. She looked back only once and Harry was chanting some sort of spell and there was a green light surrounding him.

She staggered through the house, wanting to go back to Harry but pushing on because of those words. Those beautiful words. The house began to get hot and steam was surrounding her. She pushed on.

She fell on the grass with Percy when she made it outside. The house was engulfed in green flame. She screamed and tried to run back inside but a hand stopped her. She turned around and Percy was looking at her from where he lay.

"NO!" she screamed. She hit the grass and yelled something wordless and full of pain. She felt her heart rip as the house began to crumble.

The green fire burnt on and Ginny lay on the grass. How could she live in a world where she had lost Harry twice? It was only now that she realised she would have searched for him for the rest of her life if he had left. Maybe she still would now.

She felt a hand on her back and somebody lifting her up. "No, no…" she moaned. She tried to clutch at the grass in vain.

"Ginny! Ginny! It's me!"

She only dimly recognised Hermione's voice. She turned around and saw her friend's fearful and worried face. She looked over at Percy and saw Ron kneeling over him.

She looked back at the house as the fire started to die as quickly as it had begun. She crawled towards it but Hermione stopped her.

"Ginny! No! We have to get you home! Where is your wand?" Hermione tried to lift her up but Ginny kept crawling and didn't answer.

"Please… please," she cried. She looked at the ruined and charred front door in desperation. She needed to at least see his body. But she didn't have the strength. It failed her and he wasn't there to tell her I love you and get her up again. She felt Ron lifting her up and carrying her down the hill. She sobbed uncontrollably. She could sense her brother's confusion.

"I don't see Lestrange," he called out to Hermione. She shook her head at him, agreeing.

"Let's go," she replied.

As she opened her eyes, Ginny let out a shriek. She found her strength and broke free from Ron, running back up the hill with incredible energy.

He was black with dirt and smoke and his eyes didn't focus properly on her. But when she launched herself into his arms he held on like he would never see her again. Ron, Hermione and Percy stared, not knowing who the haggard man in front of them was.

But Ginny did.

"Get us away from here," she commanded, not letting go of Harry. She saw Ron start to question and Hermione frown and she shook her head.

"DO IT QUICK!"

She felt Hermione grab hold of her and Disapparate. She felt the rubbery, squeezing sensation, but it was nowhere near as tight compared to her grip on Harry.

She felt herself fall onto hard floor. A second later Percy and Ron appeared next to her. Ron and Hermione were up within a second.

Ginny opened her eyes. In front of her, her family was sitting down to dinner. Mrs Weasley was holding a pot of what looked like pumpkin soup, George has his fork held in midair. Angelina and Penelope were gaping, as was Mr Weasley who had dropped his cup on the ground and it rolled over to Harry. Charlie had stood up to get a better look and Bill was holding a hyperventilating Fleur's hand. They all stared in shock and horror at the figured in front of them, three of which were covered in blood, ash and wounds. One of which nobody knew but Ginny.

But now Hermione was staring at the man holding Ginny's arm. Her eyes were roaming over his scarless forhead and those green eyes.

"Harry?" she whispered in shock.

There was a clatter as Mrs Weasley dropped the pot and fainted.

Ginny laughed through her tears and nodded. She didn't even let go off his hand when the entire family came at them in a wall of joy.

-----

It took a long time for the world to accept the Boy-Who-Died was now the Boy-Who-Returned. There were interviews and letters and disorder. There was happiness and joy and love.

Fred recovered, he had been upstairs recovering when Ginny, Harry, Percy, Ron and Hermione had Apparated home. He had suffered only minor damages at Lestrange's hands and recovered quickly enough when he learned Harry was back. Ron and Hermione hadn't even told the rest of the Weasley's where they were going. They just made sure Fred was fine, ignored questions and took off. Ginny thought it was a good thing that they did.

Harry himself naturally tried to avoid the attention, but it was inevitable. He only told the Weasleys and close friends what had happened to him. It became clear quickly that Harry had killed Lestrange, only adding to the mystery surrounding his return. But only Ginny knew that it was Dark Magic he had had to used to kill Lestrange. And only she knew about what had changed Harry and how Voldemort had died. Only she knew the consequences it meant to Harry.

Ron and Hermione were overjoyed at having their best friend back. They knew what Ginny knew but also knew it was in the past now. They decided to get married again just so Harry could be best man.

She and Percy now had a relationship with a closeness she had with none of her other brothers. The long anger and resentment between them disappeared and was replaced with true affection and trust. He was no less worse for wear considering he had stared death in the face and lived. Sometimes he had nightmares, but Ginny understood.

If it was hard for the world to accept Harry return, it was harder for Harry himself. He was more withdrawn than he used to be, never far from Ginny. In fact, he never took his eyes off of her. She was the same. Being parted was a painful reminder of everything they had gone through and so they never strayed far from each other.

Once she felt it was time, she re-applied to become an Auror and was accepted. Harry was offered a place but he declined. Maybe later, was all he said to her questions.

One day, a while later, she found the ring he had given her so long ago and she cried as she put it on her finger.

_That night they lay in bed, thinking about things better left unsaid. She knew he was thinking about the memories still locked inside his head, raging to get out. But oh, he knew about her fear of Lestrange. The internal and external scars that would never go away. But because he knew about her, and she knew about him… they worked. They could fit together and not be afraid or ashamed. _

"_Harry," she whispers that night. Late, late that night. "I'm wearing your ring."_

_He turns to her and stares, gently probing her thoughts with his eyes. She smiles and he slowly smiles back and traces his fingers over her smiling lips. She lies still, sensing his question. _

"_My answer has always been yes," she says._

_They lay in bed heart to heart, breast to breast, welded, conjoined together. Soul to soul. He opens his mouth to speak and she puts her hand on his lips and says, "I understand it all. I feel it all. Say nothing."_

_And he doesn't. _

_THE END_

_A/N Thanks all of you for reading and enduring with me. It did take far too long for me to get the chapters out. I really liked this story for being different. I hope you all did too. There are inconsistencies and it's definitely not my best work yet but just looking over it now I have a smile on my face. It was fun to write. I'll be back to finish my LJ, don't worry. Maybe not now, but in the near future. _

_So thanks for reading and reviewing, it's a pleasure to write for you all. Oh, and I aplogise for all the spelling/grammatical mistakes. I know there are many but I just can't go over it again!_


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